When Dreams Come True
by My Kate
Summary: A sequel to I'LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS, this story follows the effects of Sara's DUI event, Gil and Sara finding each other in their Better Place, and what happens when they return to the 'real world'. Can dreams really come true?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a sequel to my first fan fiction, _I'll See You In My Dreams._

I suggest you read that first to understand where this story begins.

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This sequel is dedicated, with thanks, to two of my favorite fan fiction authors

**Grissom1 who authored ****170 chapters**** of the amazing tale THE SESSIONS**

**and**

**Lasrevinu who authored ****91 chapters**** of the amazing tale CASTLES in the AIR**

whose works were so enthralling and entertaining

that they inspired me to embark on my personal journey to weave my own tale of GSR.

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_**When Dreams Come True**_

The tide was slowly ebbing its way back to its ocean retreat, smoothly stroking the shoreline.

Seabirds were imploringly cawing and cooing their mates toward the shadowy sanctuary of their offshore nests.

A blanket of butterflies was winging silently back to the twilight shelter atop the thicket.

From inside the shadows of their island retreat, the blazing fire before them was being reduced to glowing embers. The two lovers' breathing was calmed in their own afterglow. Their arms and legs were entwined and they lay silently, reviewing the picturesque scene. Keeping her close, he whispered in her ear,

"Nunc scio quit sit amor."

She started to giggle as she turned to stare into those blue eyes she had come to adore. "Virgil?"

He smiled confidently as he turned her back into her cuddling position. "Seemed appropriate."

As the dusk began to settle on the seascape of their Better Place, he sighed and repeated in translation

"Now I know what love is."

She felt Grissom's embrace soften slightly as she raised herself slowly, quietly moving outside the thicket to stoke the ebony remnants over the dwindling flames.

Sara fought the tiredness that threatened to claim her.

The events of the preceding afternoon replayed frame by frame.

Her heart raced at the memory of her personal revelations and of her rescue from her isolating tower.

Gil Grissom, bursting onto the scene as her knight in shining armor, had broken through her well-placed defenses.

He did not run away.

He said he loved her.

This was now THEIR Better Place.

She did not want to sleep, for that would require her to eventually awaken.

She did not want to return to her lonely shell of waking existence.

She knew she could not survive losing him to that other reality.

The first star of the night sky appeared overhead. Instinctively, Sara made a wish.

She wished he would love her forever.

A violent shudder wracked her body. A sense of foreboding overcame her.

Turning forcefully, she scrambled on all fours back to the now darkened entrance to the tunnel.

Suddenly frightened, she called for him, over and over pleading, "Gil, please!…Gil!"

She fell sobbing onto the place where his body had smoothed the sandy surface. He was gone.

She was despairing. She did not understand. How could he leave her? He promised…he loved her…he promised she would not be alone ever again…he promised...

She thought about a quote she once read by an American inventor Javan:

Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes…just be an illusion.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She rocked herself disconsolately and sobbed repeatedly, "Please, Gil…make it real…Please, Gil…make it real…Please, Gil…make it real…"

As she sobbed, tiredly repeating her mantra, the sounds of the waves, the cawing of the nested seabirds, and the flickering embers of the fire began to still her movements and lull her into a fitful sleep. From across the starlit waters she could hear soft tones repeating a message that was barely audible over her own pleading…

"Sara……Sara……Sara……sweetheart…..."

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Gil Grissom had closed his eyes with the serenity of a man in love.

He remembered the odd sensation of loosening his hold on Sara ever so slightly. He sighed contentedly, knowing deep within his soul that, whether Sara was within his immediate grasp or out of sight, she was his true love.

The events of the preceding afternoon replayed frame by frame.

His heart raced at the memory of his personal epiphany, and of his valiant rescue of his true love.

Gil Grissom, her knight in shining armor, had broken through her well-placed defenses.

But _she_ had saved _him_ also.

He no longer felt unworthy of love. She had made him feel truly worthy of love.

He thought of the words of Robert Frost:

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

Before Sara, he had not fully understood the meaning of those words.

And he had said aloud that he loved her, too.

This was now THEIR Better Place.

He did not want to sleep, for that would require him to eventually awaken. He had wanted to remain with her in their seaside retreat, away from the demands of the lab and the mounting pressures of her physical and emotional difficulties.

But the scene was so perfect, his heart was so full, her presence so reassuring, that Gil found himself being led into a peaceful slumber…

-----He awoke with a start.

In the dim light of the bedside lamp, he jolted his body upright – to the consternation of his lower back muscles. Having lifted Sara onto the couch, even with help, and then carrying her to bed had overtaxed those aging lower back vertebrae, causing a slight spasm.

But it was his heart that seemed to ache more.

He gazed down on Sara's bruised countenance. She must be in pain, he thought, as he watched her sleepily hug herself and murmur softly.

He swept some of the curly tendrils from invading her slightly swollen cheeks. He kept stroking her hair in lovingly soothing strokes. As her agitation increased, he could finally make some sense from her murmurs:

"Please, Gil…make it real…Please, Gil…make it real…Please, Gil…make it real…"

Real? He smiled. Could she really be worried that he could forget the events of the past afternoon?

His nonchalance quickly turned to concern as he saw the tears cascading from under her closed eyelids, slowly at first, but then in increasing volume.

He slid down alongside her swiftly. Mindful of her injuries, he was sliding his muscular arm under her to pull her into a protective embrace.

He stroked her hair and continued to match her mumblings with his soft whispers into her ear:

"Sara……Sara……Sara……sweetheart…..."

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No longer asleep, but not fully awake, Sara became disoriented.

If she was not longer in the thicket, then why couldn't she move? Why was there pain? Oh, no!

She was a prisoner! Someone was going to hurt her! She was going to die!

Her defensive moves caused her to cry out in agony as her body's bruised areas protested her disregard.

Immediately, Gil released her, all the while continuing his soft whispering: "Sara….sweetheart…"

Now buckled over in pain, Sara wept uncontrollably. She was back. It had not been real.

He was gone.

He really did not love her.

She wanted to die.

Gil had to do something. He stood and rushed around to her side of the bed. Despite the protests from his aching knees, he knelt before her, whispering softly. After a while, somewhere inside her a realization was dawning.

He was here.

He was saying he loved her.

He was pleading with her to stay with him.

She wanted to be with him.

Sara opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was obscured by the swelling on her bruised face. Gil placed his face close enough to gaze deeply into her eyes.

She thought her heart would burst for love of this man.

He could feel her hesitant breaths on his lips as he closed the distance between them. Continuing to stare into her unbelieving eyes, he brushed his lips over hers several times. Her breath was stolen completely away when he continued to keep eye contact as he said,

"Now I know what love is."

With that, Sara's body became limp. She was a balloon, once filled with tension and grief, and now had swiftly been deflated. Gil rose to join her on the sandy colored bedspread.

Once again, Gil gingerly wrapped her in a soft embrace. Sara was dazed.

She wanted to talk about what had transpired in their Better Place, but…was it real? To him?

His sixth sense concerning her made him aware of her discomfort.

"Sara….I….don't know how….I don't know why…I just…know…I just know I felt it all, lived it all, _heard_…" He paused. Just now, the realization of the content of their frantic banter hit home.

He moved away from her to look down at her.

_Don't look at me that way, _she thought

He saw the pain in her eyes.

_NO! No pity! Please! I couldn't stand it if _you_ pity me!_

He felt anger surge through his body.

_NO! Please don't be angry with me! I shouldn't have told you! I'm sorry I didn't tell you before you got so involved! I know I'm broken goods! But I hoped maybe… Please…I just want you to love me!_

He prepared to speak from his new-found resolve.

_NO! Please don't say this was a mistake! Please don't leave me! Please make this real! I need you! I can't do this alone anymore!_

Sara struggled in vain to distance herself from his embrace, to escape the inevitable. He was going to leave her. He felt tricked into proclaiming his love for her, even though she really wasn't worthy. It had been a dream. And he was angry. She had even lost a chance at his friendship.

She was going to be left alone.

She wanted to die.

But Gil firmed his grip on her struggling form. Not wanting to injure her further, he said forcefully, "Sara! STOP!"

At his tone, Sara stopped her attempts to escape and curled herself into as tight a ball as was possible given her proximity to his figure. She would not look at him.

She wished she could disappear.

Memories washed over her –

---of her childhood and the loneliness she had experienced

---of the times she spent huddled in a corner wishing to just disappear so the abuse would not continue

---of the wish she had made tonight on the first star in the sky

Past and present collided again.

Sara did not think she would survive this hurt. Not this time.

While she was scrambling to retreat within herself, Gil was attempting to rein in his anger.

As he fully realized the childhood abuse she had revealed during their encounter, he experienced a feeling that was new and troubling.

He wanted to kill the man who had hurt his Sara.

He thought he had seen it all, felt it all. But despite the depravity and sickness that he had encountered in all his years as a forensic scientist, he had never had the feeling of wanting to kill to avenge a victim.

But this was NOT a victim. His Sara was a SURVIVOR.

He felt her movements still. He tried to force her face to look at him, but she was retreating.

He had to fix this. He had to make her understand.

"Sara…please, honey…please look at me….I love you….please…I love you, Sara….please…"

Had she heard him correctly?

_I love you????_NOT_Goodbye?_

Again her tears were flowing as he continued to speak.

"Sara…I'm sorry…don't cry, honey…no more tears, please…I'm sorry….I'm just so angry…I want to hurt him, Sara….for what he did to you…I want to hurt them all for what they did to you…"

Sara strained her neck to place her face squarely before his. Was this really happening?

"You are so precious, Sara…I thank God every day for the chance to be near you…I pushed you away for so long, honey…I wanted you to be happy…I thought you couldn't be truly happy with me…you deserve so much better…I hurt you, though, Sara…and that makes _me_ worse than all of them…because I really love you, but was too much of a coward to believe you could really love me."

Sara thought about the many days she spent alone in her apartment, thinking about him, aching to be with him. She never considered how lonely he had been as well.

Gil took a deep breath, and continued softly, "But if you will have me, I want to love you, Sara…I want to protect you, take care of you…love you…please, Sara…just tell me I am not too late. I can't get to my Better Place without you, whether it is there _or_ here. I just can't do this alone anymore Sara….I need you…" He shut his eyes to prevent the wetness from escaping.

_He needs me._

_I made a wish upon a star…_

_Dreams do come true._

She strained her neck to brush her lips lightly against his, causing his eyelids to burst open.

Fueled by his desire, he began to scoop her into a bone crushing embrace, causing her to cry out in pain. Cursing himself, he sat and laid her gently onto the pillows. Through her tears, she let out a small chuckle.

Quizzically, he peered into her face, looking for signs of shock.

She chuckled again and said, "I guess the phrase _Love Hurts_ has new meaning for us now."

With that, he smirked evilly and peppered her face with soft kisses as she ran her fingers slowly through his soft curls.

Sara sighed as she could not contain her gap-toothed smile.

Gil Grissom loved Sara Sidle.

Life was good.

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As they lay together in this dimly lit haven, "happily ever after" actually seemed possible.

They did not know that at that very moment, events were taking place that would make their travel down the road to _that_ destination a very bumpy ride indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/NThanks for the encouraging words from all who reviewed! Your comments help me to shape the story, so if you are reading please consider leaving a review when you are done. Thanks!

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Chapter 2

Doc Robbins was worried about Sara.

His crutches clicked heavily on the cold tiles of the morgue's floor, matching the coroner's mood.

He kept replaying the sight of Sara laying on her couch. She was pale, bruised…and mere skin and bones. He mentally berated the team on the graveyard shift. Trained investigators, all of them. How had they allowed this to happen? She obviously had been troubled for a while, not eating and not getting proper rest. Why didn't any of them notice her?

He paused in his tirade. With shoulders slumped, he had to admit to himself that he had failed her more than the others. He was her physician…and her friend. Had _he_ really been _that _busy?..._that_ blind?...that…_insensitive_?

Doc rubbed his hand roughly over his face to bring back his concentration to the task at hand.

Having already dressed in his layered scrubs, he donned his protective head shield, lowered the visor and took aim with this scalpel.

His hand paused over the body.

Sighing, he looked up at the atomic clock blinking over the twin motorized doors at the morgue's entrance. He would give Grissom one more hour to contact him with news on Sara, before he picked up the lab's phone and left him a text message. They needed to talk; he needed to make Grissom listen.

Just as he was about to begin the autopsy, the doors swung open and the swing shift supervisor sauntered commandingly into the morgue.

Catherine Willows was a formidable presence, not one to easily be trifled with.

Today, however, Doc Robbins wanted to do much more than trifle with her.

Ignoring her for the moment, he turned on the electric chest cutters and began to slice expertly into the victim's ribcage. Blood splattered onto his face shield and his upper body protection. After separating and removing a set of ribs, exposing the heart and other organs, Doc turned off the surgical implement.

With bloody hands, he leaned over the cadaver's exposed organs and glared at Catherine.

"Something on your mind, Catherine?"

Doc's icy comments surprised Catherine. _What bee is in his bonnet?_

"This room seems a bit cooler than usual, Doc. Something on your mind?"

Covering the body opening with the sheet, Doc flipped up his visor and moved towards Catherine – all without breaking his stare.

"Actually, yes. I propose we have a little chat…may I suggest a topic?", he intoned. His words belied the storm that was festering beneath his otherwise calm exterior.

Always on the defensive, Catherine braced herself by crossing her arms protectively over her midriff. "By all means, Doctor."

"Let's talk about gossip…and unseen consequences created by it."

Catherine glared at Doc. He had accused her before of being too quick to judge others, and of gossiping without fully checking on the facts. She suddenly knew what this was all about. Her eyes brightened a bit as she tried to squelch the uneasiness engulfing her. Had something happened to Grissom or Sofia?

"Go on, Doc, it's your dime"

"Gil and Sofia. They had dinner. As colleagues. Nothing more."

Catherine scoffed. "Well, the evidence doesn't lie, Doc. You have to admit – Sofia is HOT. And she sure looked cozy with Grissom as they strolled out to their romantic "time out". You have to admit, they were gone quite a while. Then Grissom was losing his mind when he figured out the lab was buzzing about it. Now, I don't think-"

"NO! You DON'T THINK! And THAT is your problem, Catherine!"

Doc's voice reverberated off the polished stainless steel throughout the lab. His speech was so forceful that is made Catherine take a step back.

"It was gossip, Catherine. The same gossip that has threatened our piece of mind around here for too long. And now, it has finally gone TOO FAR!..."

Doc closed his eyes and sat wearily on the barstool in front of the electron microscope. Catherine tried to gauge the strength of his reaction, wondering if this was leading up to some horrific detail or was culminating in one of the many "Good of the Lab" speeches. "Doc –", she started hesitantly.

After a deep breath, Al Robbins opened his eyes to stare darkly into Catherine's worried stare.

She took a breath before daring to ask, "Are they alright? Did something happen?"

He released an irritated breath and said, "Grissom and Sofia are just fine. But Sara…"

Catherine winced. She stood there immobile, recalling the last conversation she and Sara had.

In supervisor mode, she had already started playing back the mental tape of that meeting.

Sara had been preoccupied with processing the shards of tire from the bus accident. The ventilation was poor, and her body posture indicated the fumes from the charred rubber were affecting her. Catherine recalled telling Sara what Judy had said about Sofia's perfume, about how she wrapped her arm around Grissom's as she was led out of the building, about how her hips sacheted to the beat of her mega heels…

Catherine took a mental step backward. Reverting unconsciously to CSI-mode, the trained investigator replayed the events and began to uncover an uncomfortable pattern: the more details she related to Sara, the greater the brunette's discomfort grew. She now realized that, in relating the steamy details, Catherine had failed to remember that Sara had always held a torch for Grissom…oh, God!…

Catherine sucked in a breath and flicked her eyes up to meet Doc's troubled gaze.

"Is she alright? She didn't do anything stupid, did she?", she asked softly.

Doc Robbins sighed. He could see the genuine concern on her face, and heard the remorse in her tone.

"She had an accident…"

Catherine was gripping his arms in an instant. "She's okay, right? She's not hurt…badly? Please, Doc….please…right?"

He guided her frantic form to sit on the stool next to him. Slowly, he related the story of how Sara had been accidentally injured by a fall from her couch. He continued that his present concern grew from the fact that because she was overworked and had not eaten in a while, and "…was so emotionally distraught, she was just not in her right mind. She hurt herself badly. Good thing Grissom was knocking on her door and was able to get into her apartment and find her. No telling what would have happened if he didn't find her in time."

Doc Robbins could not know that, at the precise moment he spoke those words to finish Sara's tale of woe, Sofia Curtis was lurking outside the entryway. She had just placed her manicured hand on the door to enter when she overheard a conversation, and someone used the word "Grissom". Stealthily she cracked the door slightly ajar, keen on understanding the basis of the chat. "One never knows where one will uncover something to tuck away for a rainy day!", she smiled to herself.

Unfortunately, she had not heard the entire context of those final words. Sofia gasped inwardly at the topic of conversation. She let the door shut silently and leaned against the cool surface of the hallway, allowing the thick moulding to partially obscure her presence. Had she just heard right?

Had Sara Sidle try to commit _suicide_?

That girl _was_ a loner, and always struck Sofia as…_expendable_…but suicide? What could have pushed her over the edge?

And how did Grissom just _happen _to be outside her door?

And how did Doc know about this?

Sofia Curtis was steaming.

That little damsel-in-distress was getting a lot of attention for someone so – _common_. Grissom was an honorable man who was just the type to be entrapped by someone so - _needy_. That dark-haired bitch was going to throw a wrench in all my plans.

Sofia knew what she had to do.

She was going to have to get rid of Sara Sidle.

Smiling softly, she shook her head in that practiced way, soft blonde curls bouncing slightly over the back of her curvy outline – and headed purposefully towards Ecklie's office.

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Gil Grissom was worried about Sara Sidle.

They had spent the day laying on her queen size bed, cuddling gently. Sara cuddled close to him, to feel the warmth of his embrace in her waking hours. Gil had cuddled close to her in a more protective frame of mind.

He was dismayed to find her facial bruising turning an uglier, darker shade of purple. While she did not complain, he observed her favoring her side whenever she spoke more than a sentence at a time, which was not frequently this afternoon. He knew she was hurting. He wanted to take away her pain right now, and guard against anything from hurting her again- forever.

He sighed.

Using his formula, perhaps he needed most to guard her against _himself_.

He once again began berating himself silently for all the times he had pushed her away, forcing her into her recent depression - all because he had not been man enough to believe he was worthy of her love.

He sighed.

"That was your second sigh, Gil Grissom. You are only allowed three in one day. Use it wisely,"she quipped as she turned her face very slowly to look him squarely in the eye.

His large hand caressed her uninjured cheek, nudging it downward, and placed her head back on his chest, not wanting her to strain her wounded neck muscles.

"Sorry, my love."

"Care to share?"

Silence made him more introspective and made her unsettled. Now that their passion had been exposed and dealt with, was he reverting back to his old ways? She knew he loved her…but…could he really _want _her? Perhaps…

Sara felt a slight shudder overwhelm her. Gil instantly came out of his internal reflection, pulling himself up to make a cursory examination of her injuries. "Sara?"

"I'm fine," she said a bit too cheerily.

He had promised himself he would never accept that answer again.

"Sara…"

"Just lie with me, please…a little while more…before…you go."

"SA-RA!", he started loudly, startling her with his sudden movements. "_Why_ do you want me to go? I love you. Do…do you still love me?"

The wounded look on his troubled countenance caused the most unusual reaction in Sara.

She laughed right out loud.

This reaction caused Gil to place his face further into her space, trying to peer into her eyes to see if she was showing signs of concussion or shock – something to explain the odd behavior.

When she quieted, she reached up towards her worried lover with her good arm and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. After they both opened their eyes, noses rubbing lovingly, she sighed. "We are certainly a pair!" She glanced away from his curious gaze for a moment before willing herself to resume eye contact. "You were so quiet…I thought…you had changed your mind…about…….loving me."

Gil closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "No, Sara…_never_…I …", but Sara stopped him.

"No more regrets. Life is too short. You have to make the best of every day. You never know about tomorrow…if there will even BE a tomorrow…"

He silenced her with a kiss. She was right. His favorite phrase from Thoreau's _Walden_ replayed in his heart:

"Live the life you have imagined."

His resolve in place, Gil Grissom was suddenly a man on a mission. He swung his legs off the side and left her bed, moving around to the other side. He placed his arms gently under her knees and shoulders and lifted her, carrying her to the overstuffed wingback chair by her window.

She was giggling and asking him what in the world he was trying to do. He just smiled.

As she sat with her bruised side protected, he nuzzled her neck and kissed her hair softly. She sighed. "I want to die in your arms…"

He smiled. "Well, I have something different in mind…" She looked at him quizzically, but he just stared at her for the longest time with the oddest grin in place. After a long moment, he grabbed her hand, and placed his head close to hers, whispering from behind her ear:

"Come, live with me and be my love,  
And we will all the pleasures prove  
Of peace and plenty, bed and board,  
That chance employment may afford."

"Cecil Day Lewis", she smiled tiredly.

"Sara…please…come, live with me…and be my love…"

She looked into his eyes and saw her heart's desire. She saw…home. A tear trickled down her cheek. Then she gave him her special smile.

"C'mon, sleepyhead," he said softly. "Let's get out of here."

Surprised, she turned her head fully as he scooped her up and stood. "No, Gil, I'm too sore, too tired to go out, and I don't want anyone to see me…" – he kissed her silent.

"I never said we were going out," he smirked as he lay her gently on her pillows. After a minute, she nodded in approval.

"Hope we haven't missed the butterfly launch," she said sleepily as he pulled up the covers, turned out the light, and happily hugged her to himself.

She raced ahead of him, exhausted from her injuries. He found himself checking to be sure she was settled and safe before exhaling forcefully and drifting towards their Better Place. It was at that minute that his cell phone signaled that he had received a text message. Debating whether to ignore it and join Sara, or whether it might be something of importance, he sighed as he reached for the device and read the screen indicating one message from "MORGUE".

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The knock on the door startled the Lab Director, and he barked, "ENTER!"

His demeanor changed immediately as a perky blonde stood with her hands behind her back, accentuating her assets, and crooned, "Do you have a minute?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Unexpectedly, my husband and son decided to watch a repeat of a football game on TV, put in a fire in our family room fireplace, and brought the computer setup downstairs. They deserve the thanks for this chapter posting today. Work beckons tomorrow…when I win the lottery, I'd love to do nothing but write full time…sigh…these two have really captivated me. I hope you will continue to review; your feedback helps shape the story. Look for the next update late next weekend.

Chapter 3

"You didn't call me. I was worried about Sara." Doc's voice betrayed his aggravation.

Grissom sighed. He hated the way the complexities of life outside the apartment continued to hammer away at the happiness within the confines of Sara's bedroom.

He hated that she was most likely there, standing on the shore with her hair blowing softly over her shoulders in the sea breeze, smiling into the sunlight, gazing expectantly at the thicket, waiting for him…

"Did you hear me?" asked the aggrieved voice over the receiver.

"Sorry, I was …lost in thought. So…" he gushed, "…again, please?"

"I asked if you noticed any increased swelling in her ribcage, or any lack of movement due to pain. Without an X-ray, I was guessing about the amount of bone damage from the fall."

"She did seem to be speaking in short answers when she was awake. And she did seem to favor her side, holding it as she moved. I assumed it was just expected after the fall."

"Gil, monitor her breathing. We cannot rule out a broken rib, and I don't have to tell you that if she has difficulty taking deep breaths, the cause could be-"

"A deflating lung," Gil gasped as he swiftly turned to place his face closer to hers, searching for signs of respiratory distress. He was again sidetracked by a curly wisp of hair that had escaped from the confines of her perfectly shaped ear.

"So far, I'm not detecting anything." He lowered his face and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"Gil, there is something else…" Doc found himself suddenly unable to easily begin this important conversation. "When do you expect to be back at the lab? I really need to sit down and discuss a …situation."

Gil's mind was still on the image of Sara waiting for him. He hummed, "Hmm?…Lab?…Oh, well Doc, I planned to stay with Sara for a few days until she was feeling better. But I can come down tomorrow to see you, if you think it can't wait."

"It can't."

Those two words stirred the unsettling vibes Gil was beginning to get from this conversation. It wasn't exactly what Doc was saying. More like what he _wasn't_ saying.

"Ok, tomorrow. I'll call on you at the start of shift."

"Fine. And Gil? Please, keep an eye on Sara. Call me if you need me. Make sure she eats something…substantial. See you tomorrow." With that, the line went silent.

Gil returned his cell to the bedside stand. In an uncharacteristic move, he reached over and brought it back into his grasp, shutting it off. He stared at it for a moment before he tugged on the handle of the top drawer of the stand and tossed the phone inside. Although he couldn't understand exactly why, the call had unnerved him and he wanted to be far from the offending item.

He glanced over at Sara's sleeping form. She was now wearing a long sleeved oversized sweatshirt and baggy pajama pants. The darkened, swollen injuries were ugly against her otherwise beautiful skin and he grimaced recalling how he had found her almost unconscious form. He had thought she was dead. Gil realized he had been given another chance. Thinking about Doc's phone call, he began to worry that there might be a problem with Sara. He cleared his head and wanted so badly to scoop her up in his arms and hold her tight. He leaned over to gently stroke her uninjured cheek as he whispered:

Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved. -Barbara Johnson

He pressed his lips to her hair, softly inhaling the lingering vanilla scent. He smiled and lay back on his pillow. He needed to calm himself. She was waiting for him.

But the memory of Doc's phone call kept him prisoner to his thoughts.

There was _something_ in the coroner's tone that disturbed Gil's peace of mind.

Was there something he wasn't seeing?

Should he be concerned for Sara's well-being?

Might her injuries be more serious than their first assessment?

Should he just have called 911 in the first place?

He sighed loudly and sat up to survey her as she slept. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and the way she supported her injured ribs. Satisfied she currently seemed without pain, he lay back and tried to quell his rising anxiety.

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She missed him. As she walked the pebble-strewn beach front, the sea birds came to join in the stroll. She smiled as she thought that these avian friends were similar to those in the Cinderella fairytale. Sara laughed aloud as she spoke to her winged companions, "And I feel just like Cinderella. Saved by my handsome prince….but where _is _my knight in shining armor?" She sighed and turned towards the thicket. While she could hear the wind whistling through the twisted limbs, producing a pleasing song to accompany her on her journey – there was still no sign of him.

Sara plopped down on the sandy shoreline and surveyed the soft waves crashing just off shore. Soon it would be time for the tide to come in. How she loved to feel the sand disappear below her bare feet as the water was pulled back off shore. But now, during low tide, the water appeared calmer. Perhaps…was there time for a swim before he joined her?

Living by the ocean for most of her childhood, she had enjoyed the time in the water – although she would not call herself a good swimmer by any means. Still, she had good memories of doggie-paddles and the sensation of cool, salty liquid supporting her as she floated. The temptation was too great. She decided to take the plunge.

Almost skipping to the end of the dock, Sara shed most of her beachwear – leaving on only her silky underwear. In this Better Place, she had no injuries, no swollen face, no gash on her side, no pain…just a feeling of complete happiness. She jumped in feet first, holding her nose like a five-year-old. As the water filled her ear canals, she let go of her hand's grasp of her nose and began to breathe out slowly. When her head cleared the water's surface, she smoothed back her unruly curls and spread her arms to assist the water's buoyancy. Her smile waned a bit. She wished Gil was here.

She started to feel the pull of the undertow after the waves as it tugged her slightly away from the shoreline. She loved the softness of the whitecaps as they broke under her. She bobbed and laughed as each undulation brought her a bit farther out. Sara thought about Gil, about his request for her to move in with him, about what it would be like to really belong to someone who had your heart completely.

Above her, the sea birds were circling and calling their warning, but Sara was reveling too deeply in her good fortune to realize that she was now an unsafe distance from shore. The tide was coming in with more force, and the whitecaps were now breaking behind her, rather than under her.

It wasn't until a powerful wave crashed directly behind her that Sara was brought out of her revelry. Sputtering to clear the salt water from her nose and throat, she suddenly realized her distance from shore. Not a good swimmer, she tried to squelch the fear that was emerging in her chest as she methodically began to mimic the motions of other swimmers she had observed in her years at the beach.

But her arm movements proved no matched for the overpowering waves. Time after time she was inundated with salt water, and the undertow pulled her back from her destination. Panic was starting to control her movements, making them sloppy and less effective. She was beginning to have trouble breathing.

The shoreline seemed farther away and Sara turned her back to it. It hurt too much to realize she was out here alone. She was getting tired of struggling with against the watery menace. Slowly, Sara felt a calm coming over her.

Maybe this was it.

She remembered her abnormal psych class and the professor who discussed the theory that if you died in your dreams, your body would accept this and would also shut down.

Although in danger, she smirked at the irony of the situation. A few weeks ago, she was willing to end it all, the pain of loneliness just too much to bear. Now, that she finally had the love of the only man she had ever loved, her life would simply end, here, in what was supposed to be her Better Place. Her life would be finished before she even started to really live. A tear escaped from her eye.

Sara thought about Gil.

Would he know how much she loved him?

Would he know she did not mean to leave him?

Would he know she was sorry she never got the chance to say goodbye?

Her energy was depleted. When the next larger wave engulfed her powerfully, she tried to pull herself upward, but her head did not clear the top of the water.

Tilting her head skyward, she felt herself letting go. As she opened her eyes underwater, the vision before her would have taken her breath away if the last wave hadn't already claimed it. She focused on the sun's face. The waves obscured the view, changing it now a golden medallion, awesome in intensity, the salt in the water radiating the sunbeams into a myriad of shimmering sparks as they scattered across the watery landscape.

And then, the sight was suddenly clouded by an imposing shadow. Sara closed her eyes and waited for the release that Death would provide.

Instead, a strong arm gripped her waist and tugged her above the water line. Shielding her face from the next wave, Gil pressed her to himself until the powerful force passed over them. Using the following waves to expertly propel them forward, he kept her in his redemptive embrace as he maneuvered them back to shallower depths.

By the time they had reached the safety of the shoreline, Sara had stopped sputtering and at first Gil frantically feared she had stopped breathing altogether.

Instead, she had simply drifted into a soft sleep, fatigue overwhelming her. He sat with her lying across his lap, as he sought to regain his own regular breathing. Surveying her from top to bottom and satisfied she was otherwise unharmed; he pulled her to him tightly and fought to keep the tears from falling.

What had happened?

Again, he blamed himself for leaving her alone. It was just so hard to relax after the events of the day; it had taken some time for him to return here.

Silently, he thanked his mother for insisting on those years of swimming lessons she said were necessary for anyone who lived close to the water.

He thanked all things holy that he had arrived in time to find her clothes on the dock, to observe the unusual activity of the sea birds, to locate her far offshore, and to assess her situation before it was too late.

Too late.

He was almost too late.

He shook his head to clear it as she murmured in his embrace. He wanted to chastise her for swimming alone. But when she looked up at him with her waterlogged gaze, he started peppering her with passionate kisses, whispering "I love you" between each touch of his lips.

Gil helped her stand and then carried her back to the tunnel in the thicket. He brought some of the woodpile over to the campfire area and started another fire to warm her. Then they lay silently for hours, with her held tightly in his embrace, until the shock of the incident had lessened somewhat. Finally, Gil turned her in his arms and looked her in the eye. She demurred, cutting him off before he spoke. "Please, let's not talk about it, ok?" When she looked at him with those eyes, he would give her the world.

They did not speak of it again.

Instead, they watched the blanket of butterflies return to their nighttime retreat, the sea birds swooping low near the entrance to the couple's hideaway, bidding her a loving good night, and the waves respectfully retreating to their ocean depths. In the peace of this twilight, they both fell asleep only to awaken together much later, snuggled on Sara's sandy colored bedcovers.

But the events of this visit would soon come back to haunt Sara in a most unexpected way.

---------------------------------------------

After Sofia's visit to Ecklie, the Lab Director was pumped. _Glad _one_ of my CSI's appreciates my authority_, he fumed.

She had been absolutely right to come to him and voice her concerns about Sidle. _Sidle_, he grimaced. She had been a thorn in his side since he became Director. A loose cannon, he had once opined. _And _that_ is only what I felt comfortable saying _out loud

_Poor Curtis. How could someone so beautiful possess all that compassion? Why, she had such a hard time discussing her concerns with me, that I even noticed her trying to discretely brush that stray tear from her eyes._

_So Sidle had seemed more standoffish, eh? Wished to work alone more? Was avoiding social contacts, and, what was the other thing? Oh, yeah, seemed preoccupied with working in the morgue? Doesn't take a brain surgeon to notice depression setting in. This job is stressful as it is for a "normal" person. And I have always said Sidle was anything __but__ normal. _

Ecklie sighed. _I certainly don't need Sidle turning into a "jumper" off our roof. I can just see the news crews' investigative reporters wanting to "expose" what is wrong at the LVPD's CSI lab. And WHO would they want to crucify? Conrad Ecklie, the Lab's Director. Certainly the sheriff would have no problem using _him_ as a scapegoat. _

_Well, Sidle, the joke's on you. I'm going to do a little clandestine "investigative reporting" of my own. When I get enough on you, your days as a CSI – here or anywhere – are OVER!_

At this, Ecklie slammed his fist on his desk – dislodging the entire pile of last month's field reports. They lay scattered around the room like confetti in Times Square at 12:05 a.m. on New Year's Day. He sat back and fumed. _Sidle!_

------------------------------------------------

Doc Robbins, unfortunately, decided on that exact minute to knock on the door of Conrad Ecklie's office. In hand was a request for a week's medical leave for an employee injured off the job.

The coroner generally had no problem going toe-to-toe with the Lab Director. He considered Ecklie a buffoon and anything _but_ his peer. So Doc tried to use words of few syllables and, when pressed, limited his answers to general knowledge of the topic. Grissom was always briefed in entirety on all cases and was widely considered unofficially as the Sheriff's "go to" man when in-depth information was required.

Still, Ecklie was a buffoon who had the Sheriff's ear, and the power to make life miserable for those under his command.

That is why the few hairs on the back of Doc's head stood on end when Ecklie opened the folder and smiled.

"Sara Sidle……that will be all, Doctor…"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for your enthusiastic reviews. Your points of view are welcome, as they help shape the development of the storyline. Hope you will continue to read and review!

I had not expected to finish this chapter until the weekend, but these two just will not get off my shoulder until I finished this section. As long as it's done, might as well share and ask you to review. Hope it doesn't disappoint!

Chapter 4

She sat smugly in the shadows of the break room. With some time before shift would begin, the area was deserted. Sofia sipped her English Breakfast Tea, relaxed against the leather-grained sofa cushions, crossed her long legs, and fought to contain a satisfied smirk.

Her plan was brilliant in its simplicity. Sofia had been remarkably successful in eliminating any competition, personal or work-related, through a three-step process she honed to perfection through years of thoughtful plotting: _Remove, Restrain, Replace_.

She always found a way to _remove_ the "offending object" from their normal work environment, paving the way for _her_ to come to the rescue. Through sometimes ingenious means, she would then see that the "offender" was _restrained _from doing their job – usually by some authoritative edict imposing a mandatory layoff or compulsory vacation leave. Finally, Sofia would _replace_ the person on a temporary basis, wielding her charms to insure she became permanent in her desired position.

Today, she had just finished setting the stage for the first part of The Plan to commence. She chuckled at the memory of Ecklie's sympathetic response to her "concern" about Sara Sidle. _Wrapped him right around my…_she smirked as she swirled her pinky in the air. _Didn't take much to spin him up about Sara. Poor girl. By the time I'm done with her, they'll lock her up in some psychiatric suite and throw away the key. _At this, Sofia sighed. Then…she'd have the full attention of Grissom, and any other men in this lab who could help her climb the administrative ladder. Thinking about Grissom made her blush slightly. _No reason I shouldn't _enjoy_ my work while I'm at it. _She grinned wickedly. _Watch out, Gil Grissom, you will be mine!_

---------------------------------------------------------------

The couple sat silently, having both awakened to the sounds of the early evening hour. It wasn't until Sara groaned softly that Gil instantly pulled himself up to assess her condition.

"Honey, you need to take some of the painkillers Doc left for you," he said worriedly.

"I'm fine…"

"NO!" he barked, startling her. Tears formed on the rims of her worried eyes.

"Sweetheart, you are NOT fine! Please, let me help you. Please!" he said emphatically, wrapping his arms around her carefully so as not to injure her further.

Sara gulped back the knot in her throat. "Okay," she said softly. His concern should have been heartwarming, but Sara had incurred enough abuse in her life to make her wary of anyone who exhibited that violent of a response when she disagreed with them. It always started with verbal abuse…

He pushed his forehead towards hers and momentarily felt her retreat before changing her mind to meet him halfway.

"Look, Sara…I'm sorry…I never meant to raise my voice…I…I just don't know how to do this…to make you understand." He raised his head and waited for her to meet his gaze before he continued.

"I am telling you…to your face…that I am worried about you. I don't like to see you in pain. I love you. I want to help you. But you also have to know that you, Sara Sidle, are the most important thing in my life. I will _never_ knowingly do anything to hurt you, and that includes going against your wishes. That is my promise." Sara let out the breath she did not realize she had been holding.

"Let's start this conversation again, ok?" he smiled. Her face softened and she smiled back.

"Honey, Doc left some painkillers for you. I am worried because you look like you are in pain. Please, will you take them to ease my mind?"

Sara took a deep breath. "Okay," she said with more assurance than before. "It's just that painkillers make me feel out of control." This explanation should have sufficed, but she surprised them both when she found herself continuing.

"I _need _to stay in control …or else I may have no choice but to submit to doing what someone else wants me to do…or do to me…even when I _don't want to_..." Her voice increased in volume as she spoke. "I need to stay in control! I won't let myself be a victim again! I won't!" she said emphatically, only to wince and bring her arm defensively over her bruised ribs.

He reached for her again to calm her. "Look at me, Sara." When their eyes met, "I _promise_."

He left to gather the pills and some milk to wash them down. Sara lay silently, amazed that for the second time she had revealed a part of her inmost feelings to him. _What was it about him_, she wondered. For years, she'd done the dance, refused to let anyone in. With him, it was like she couldn't help herself. Was she really willing to trust him that much?

_Please, don't betray my trust._

She took the pills but could not be persuaded to eat anything. Gil offered to make several choices of breakfast foods, but between the pills and her aching face she begged to put off eating until later. Replacing the pill bottle on the bed stand reminded him about his meeting with Doc.

He was loath to leave her, but needed to find out what their friend found so important that required a face-to-face meeting. Upon telling Sara he needed to go to the lab for a while, her defensive posture was set in place. _He's going…to leave me. I'll be fine. Who can blame him?_

His sixth sense kicking in, he leaned over to peer into her eyes for what seemed like eternity. "You want me to bring back something special to eat, or should I surprise you?"

Sara just plunged into the icy blue depths of his eyes as she answered slowly, "You already have."

------------------------------------------

Doc Robbins was trying to busy himself, to no avail. His eyes wandered frequently to the clock on his office wall, each notice bringing a prolonged sigh. He would give Grissom another half hour before he began a search for his colleague.

Just then, the coroner's impatient wait ended when the morgue doors opened and an anxious-looking Grissom approached with a hurried stride.

"How is she tonight?"

"Resting comfortably. She just took some of the pain medication you left her, downing it with a glass of milk. I'll be bringing take out back when we finish here."

Doc Robbins sighed as he leaned back in his high-backed office chair. "Close the door, Gil."

Grissom's apprehension heightened somewhat as he watched the doctor speak to the front desk asking her to hold all calls. When finished, he swiveled in his chair and brought himself face-to-face with his friend.

"Gil…I'm worried about Sara."

Grissom leaned forward giving their friend his total attention.

"I get the feeling this is not related to the accident."

Doc sighed. "Not directly. Listen, how much attention have you paid to Sara's overall well-being in the last month or so?"

It was Grissom's turn to sigh. "You know it hasn't been much. It isn't that I have been _avoiding_ her, actually…"

"Well what EXACTLY _WOULD_ you call it, Gil?" The heat of the coroner's interruption left them both temporarily speechless.

Silence lay between them as the doctor fought to calm his rising fury. Finally, he began again:

"Sara talked to me that night. She described her accident, which I _truly believe_ was an unfortunate turn of events. But then, well, it was like she couldn't keep things dammed up anymore. Like if she couldn't tell someone about her torment, she would most likely…"

He needed a break, unable to speak the worry that was consuming him. He tried again:

"Gil…she's on overload. That business with Hank, losing the nod for the promotion to Nick, and…other emotional matters…" He looked into Gil's eyes to see if he was getting the point across.

"Guilty," was Grissom's response.

"Well, anyway, in the aftermath of this upheaval, Sara seems…lost. Going over the timesheets when I returned to the lab after the accident, I was appalled at the number of consecutive hours Sara put in during a one-week period alone. She was burying herself in her work trying to bury her pain…it wasn't working."

Grissom was silent. How had he missed that? They were always short staffed; they had always worked crazy hours. How had he not noticed Sara pulling doubles and triples without a day off?

Doc continued. "That night, when I did a more in-depth physical exam…" he had to pause to allow the memory to fade, lessening his discomfort, "Gil…she is in danger…"

At this, Grissom almost stood as he approached the desk to lean into Doc's personal space.

"Al?...tell me…all of it."

During the next half hour the two exchanged information about the issues of Sara's weight loss, her body mass depletion bordering on anorexia, her penchant to overwork, her almost compulsive need to drive herself to exhaustion.

Doc felt he had adequately conveyed his concerns to Grissom. He was, however, NOT prepared for Gil to relate his own worry about Sara's brush with a DUI just a short fortnight ago.

This disturbed the medical examiner greatly.

"Gil, the addition of binge drinking into the equation is more than a little troubling. If these facts were presented to me without a name and a history to attach them to, my off-the-cuff diagnosis would be…severe depression."

Gil swallowed hard. Not Sara. She had been through so much in her lifetime. Surely she had always shown herself strong enough to handle whatever evil life threw at her. She was a survivor.

But was she strong enough to survive the quicksand he had personally led her through these past five years?

Doc's intensity brought Gil out of his musings.

"Sara needs our support, Gil. I worry that, with provocation, this situation could worsen quickly. Patients presenting with these symptoms often…well, let's just say things can escalate quickly."

Grissom blinked hard and stared into the troubled eyes of a man who was trying to make a statement, but was unable – or unwilling – to put it into words.

"Doc…just lay it on the line."

For the first time in memory, Gil saw an emotion-charged glare emitted from the coroner as he whispered harshly,

"Suicide watch."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderfully honest reviews. As I said, when you review, it helps shapes the story (if these two will let me). I would like to respond to each review, but with this story my time seems very limited as this month is extremely busy, so I have decided to spend the time writing and not responding individually at this point. I hope each of my loyal reviewers understands that seeing your Review Alert in my mailbox is the one thing that keeps me up until midnight to finish another segment of this evolving tale.

Also, I wish you all to know that I have the greatest respect for the character that is Sara Sidle. I am always impressed with her tenacity and her courage. I hope you will stay with this story long enough to find evidence of this support.

As to the inquiries about the direction of this story: I will only repeat my favorite saying:

"It isn't about reality, but about _perceived_ reality…"

Thanks for your continued support of this story.GSR RULES!-Kathy

Chapter 5

Sara was sprawled on the couch feeling slightly nauseous from the medication Doc had given her. In his haste to ensure she would not suffer painfully from the injuries sustained in the fall, he had given her the bottled relief – samples from the drug rep who supplied the lab's infirmary. Had he not been so distracted by his deep concern over Sara's physical and emotional state, he would have realized that with her body mass the drug was more potent than her system could easily handle.

_This is why I hate taking pain meds…_she sighed to herself. While the pain from the bruising had subsided, the buzz from the drug was far from euphoric.

_Lay flat, stay cool, or lose your lunch…_she chastised herself. She had been down this road before. Her past was blotted with memories of many hospital visits, always ending with an over-eager intern who over-prescribed the dosage needed to manage her discomfort. It was the reason she chose to embrace her pain and shy away from drugs; while ignoring her pain usually would help sharpen her focus on her chosen task, it also prevented the forceful vomiting Sara felt was now impending despite her best efforts.

The rush to the bathroom was more like a swim in a waterless ocean. Her ears buzzed loudly, her legs only slightly obeyed her commands, her arms shakily lowered her body over the porcelain rim, and her elbows were the only support strong enough to hold her while her stomach muscles lurched violently for several minutes into the bowl.

Afterwards, Sara sat on the cool floor tiles, feeling faint and …alone.

She wished Grissom was here to hold her hand. She felt he had been gone forever. _Perhaps he won't come back this time. No matter. I still have my memories. Better to have loved and lost…_

After a few sobs were released, Sara took a deep breath and forced herself to sit a bit straighter. She recognized this melancholy for what it was – a reaction to the synthetic narcotic. Still, her stomach's reaction had caused her ribs to start hurting again, her head was pounding…and then there was the pain of recalling that she was still…alone.

_I can't do this anymore. This has to stop. I know what I have to do…_

Pulling herself up painfully, Sara approached the bedside table where the bottle of pills had been placed. She ripped off the cap and dumped the entire contents into her shaking palm, tossing the empty container onto the bedding…

-------------------------------------------------------------

Gil's reaction to Doc's last statement was swift, loud, and forceful.

"_NO! I know Sara! She may have been slightly depressed, but she certainly is NOT suicidal! How DARE you make such an accusation!"_

Gil was on top of Doc in an instant. He wanted to rip him apart for even suggesting such a thing.

He wanted to make him sorry he ever interfered in their lives. He wanted to slam him against the wall until he took it back. He wanted him to admit he was way out of line to even suggest such a thing about his Sara. He wanted him to swear he would never say such a thing again about the only woman Gil had ever loved.

He wanted him to be wrong.

After initially donning a protective stance, Doc eased his hands onto his lap and just stared at his friend. The doctor thanked his own lucky stars every day that he had not been as stubborn as Grissom and had married the woman of his dreams years ago – even though _their _own age difference was great. He understood the agony the CSI must be experiencing as he empathized what the pain would be like if _he_ was forced to face a similar diagnosis about his own wife.

"Gil…I hope I _am_ wrong. But we have to think about Sara first. Has she…has she ever spoken to you about………giving up on the pain? Doing something to _end _her pain? _Anything_ in this line of conversation?"

Gil felt as if he had been slapped. He stepped away from the coroner and sat down heavily, avoiding eye contact. Memories poured the evidence into his consciousness.

He thought about her confessions in their Better Place:

_Death broke at once the vital chain,  
And freed his soul the nearest way_

– _Samuel Johnson_

He thought about her almost drowning off the shoreline.

He remembered how he found her just floating underwater staring up into the sky.

He remembered how she begged him not to talk about it.

""Just lie with me, please…a little while more…before…you go."

"I want to die in your arms…"

Panic seized him. He needed to see Sara _now._

Grissom shoved the chair away from him as if it were on fire.

He glared into Doc's direction and said, "Meet in at Sara's in ten minutes."

He paused at the door and fixed the doctor with a death glare.

"And DON'T repeat a word of this to ANYONE!"

----------------------------------------------------

Sofia had been gloating to herself in the break room. Shift would be starting soon and that meant Grissom would be gracing the halls soon.

She sighed. _Best get primped and ready for an interesting evening!_

As luck would have it, as she reached the doorway she could see his long strides approaching her position.

Sofia licked her lips and then stepped into the hallway. She allowed her usual honeyed soprano tones to modulate into a sultry tenor. _"Good evening, Grissom…"_

Lost in thought, her presence actually brought him out of his reverie with the shock of encountering anyone in the tiled corridor.

Sofia attributed his flustered look to his unconscious attraction towards her. She smiled and moved a bit closer.

"Sofia," he protested as his original mission came to the front of his thoughts.

"Yes, Grissom?" she purred as she took yet another step towards him, cocking her head to a softer angle.

"Catherine is going to supervise tonight. I…I…I am taking a few days personal leave…Catherine will be up with assignments in about a half hour."

"Oh…" Sofia said, her proximity to him increasing her desire to run her fingers suggestively around the buttons of his golf shirt. "Well…you will be missed…anything I can do for you before you…take off?"

Mr. Clueless was singularly focused on getting to Sara, thereby totally missing the double entendre.

"Yes, actually," he began and Sofia's heart pounded loudly in her chest.

"Tonight I want you to finish with that box of evidence from the McMillan case. Nick and Warrick had gone over it and found nothing. But Sara was convinced there was something they had overlooked. She worked the better part of a triple on scrutinizing the evidence, but packaged it and sent it to Trace storage because she was not finished. Just uh, …I think taking a look with a fresh pair of eyes won't hurt…if you don't see anything worthy of investigating, just pack it up and give it to Greg. He was working the case with her."

Sofia perked up. _Perhaps this is the break I need to implement step one of the Plan!_, she thought.

Aloud she said sweetly, "Sara not coming in tonight?"

The admission would cause him to wince. Sara never took time off, sometimes sleeping at the lab when a case was particularly troubling. One sick day might be overlooked, but a week's medical leave would certainly raise some red flags in a building full of investigators. Gil was just not prepared with a good cover story, so he fumbled,

"Ah…no…she is taking some time off…sick leave…she should be back in a day or two," he lied.

The strands of sunlight on the back of her head stood erect. _Definitely something happening here._

At this moment, Doc could be heard clanking through the halls. Like Grissom a few moments before, he seemed distracted and absorbed. _Well, well, well,…what have we here???_

Grissom scowled at the coroner as the Doc admonished him, "Still here?"

"Just on my way."

"Well, let's get over there."

Irritated at the insinuation of neglect, Grissom turned on his heels and forged ahead of the limping physician without so much as a goodbye to Sofia.

Not used to being snubbed _or_ being left out in the dark, Sofia squared her shoulders and unconsciously gave her wavy curls a shake. _There's more than one way to get information around here,_ she resolved.

She turned on her heels and headed straight to Ecklie's office.

-------------------------------------------------

Sara was feeling drowsy. She lay on top of the sandy colored spread trying to still her gnawing sense of vertigo. As the painted walls seemed to quiver slightly under her gaze, she was happy with her decision about the pills.

No more discomfort.

No more feeling out of control.

No more letting someone else take control of her body.

No more being the victim.

She sighed. As she closed her eyes, she could still see the fourteen yellow and blue capsules swirling in the watery vortex and then disappear down the porcelain trap – flushed into the sewers and far away from her. _No more pills!_, she sighed, and the thought left her feeling even more empowered.

_Focus, Sara. Relax. The pain will focus you. Be strong. Even if he doesn't come back, you had his love for a while. And the memories of your time together in the Better Place…_another smile graced her lips.

She wished she could just fall asleep and return there to bask in the sun on the shoreline until the effects of the drugs fully wore off.

But she couldn't return there without _him_. Sara was missing him terribly.

The lingering effects of the drugs pulled Sara into a morbid rest. She did dream. But the remaining medication did not allow her to enter a peaceful state such as her Better Place.

Instead, the drugs plunged her deep into a fitful nightmare, holding her psyche prisoner, refusing to allow her to awaken.

_She was being held against her will. _

_Her hands were strapped down and her feet were spread uncomfortably far apart, secured at the ankles. _

_Faces were all around her, whispering her name. Not in conversation __with__ her, as much as in conversation __about__ her._

_A cacophony of noise made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening around her._

_She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound._

_Someone was touching her, reaching under the blanket…NO!_

_She was straining against the restraints, but they held her fast._

_Then she saw it._

_Delirious, she watched in horror as a hypodermic needle being prepped in against the wind. The slightest drop of liquid landed on her cheek. Suddenly the wind picked up and more liquid was splashing against her face._

_She was pleading with her eyes, begging someone to help her._

_Then she saw him._

_Grissom._

_He would save her._

_He had given her that promise._

"_I will __never__ knowingly do anything to hurt you,_

_and that includes going against your wishes. _

_That is my promise."_

_She felt herself calling out to him._

_He looked her directly in the eye and gave her a sad smile._

_Then he turned and walked away._

_She was screaming his name, pleading with him, begging him…._

"_Griss! Please! Help me! Please! Save me!_

------------------------------------------------

Gil Grissom was a law abiding man who believed rules existed for the betterment of society.

So his level of anxiety was measurable as he barely paused at every stop sign and red light on the way back to Sara's apartment.

He planned to wait for Doc but his need to hold Sara, to reassure himself that she was safe, prevented him from allowing one more second than necessary to stand between him and his love.

He bounded up the stairs as he fished the key of his pocket and into the lock.

Stepping in hurriedly, he expected to see her resting comfortably on the couch.

Instead, he was greeting to a stomach-flipping string of urgent calls for help. He called out to Sara as he raced through the small apartment towards her bedroom.

He gasped at the sight that greeted him.

She was thrashing incoherently, tears streaming down her face, moaning and intermittently crying out his name, begging him to help her…save her…

He had seen hundreds of gruesome crime scenes in his career. The scientist in him always felt the surge of adrenalin, pumping him into action. Mind and body a cohesive unit of action.

Faced with the agonizing scene before him, however, his body reacted fearfully. For an instant, his mind couldn't comprehend the situation. He found his legs wouldn't move.

Then he saw it.

An opened, empty pill bottle.

He stood motionless, a shell of himself.

He was finally too late.

"_Oh, Sara_…."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Continued thanks for the reviews and support of this story! You are terrific!

Chapter 6

Sofia had leaned her curves successfully over the back of Ecklie's visitor chair. Eager to impress the blonde CSI, he had opened up like a can of aging sardines. Bursting at the seams to reveal his rotten disposition where Sara Sidle was concerned. Ecklie went so far as to show Sofia the request for medical leave form that Doc Robbins had hand delivered as her personal physician.

"I don't care what the reason is, she is not going to be poisoning the air around here for a week, and I can deal with that!" sneered Ecklie. "Of course, I _am_ going to have to be… _satisfied_ …that she is certified as fit to return to work," he smirked.

_Perhaps a psychological profile, also?_, thought Sofia. _But now is not the time to plant _that_ bug in his ear…_

After stroking his ego by commiserating on the difficulties of managing such diverse personnel matters and by commending him profusely on his professionalism, leaving a disturbing gleam in Ecklie's eyes, Sofia wound her way down to the break room with a satisfied strut.

Catherine was there with assignments. Greg was scheduled to be off tonight, but was on-call as Sara had taken a sick leave. At this news, there was a dichotomy of reactions among the CSIs.

Nick and Warrick immediately sat forward, assaulting Catherine with questions and concerns about their colleague. "Sick leave? Dammit, Catherine, Sara hasn't taken a sick day in all the time we've worked together. What gives?" Nick almost shouted. Warrick was shaking his head and muttering something about pigs flying.

Sofia, however, had nestled herself comfortably into the cushions of the leather couch, hiding her delighted smirk behind a sip of her tea cup.

Catherine held up her hand. "I get it, believe me. Doc couldn't have been more vague about what was going on, and then Grissom also takes a few days leave…"

At these separate pieces suddenly connecting themselves for the first time, Sofia sputtered her tea, causing the three coworkers to spin in their chairs and glare at her. "Sorry, way too big a gulp," she lied, batting her lashes a few times at Nick.

"So…Sara is sick, Doc is caring for her, and Grissom is…" Warrick sent Catherine a questioning look.

Catherine was stone-faced as she rose and placed both hands palms out before her. "I don't know, 'Ric. You can be all over _him_ when he returns…" she replied somewhat teasingly and with that, declared everyone should get the shift underway.

_Not such a bad idea after all, Catherine…_ thought a smug Sofia who by now was rinsing out her cup and heading out to Trace storage to collect the box of evidence into which Sara had poured her overtime hours.

--------------------------------------

Heartbroken, he continued to Sara from the doorway almost catatonic in his grief.

The next moments were a bizarre blend of sight and sound.

There was the painful feeling of Doc's crutch swiping past his shin as he rushed forward to the bed, knocking the CSI slightly off-balance. The sounds of Sara still thrashing and whimpering. The horrified look on Doc's face as he gazed first at the pill bottle and then at Grissom. He angry tone Doc used as he screamed at Grissom to dial 911. The look of gentleness as the doctor began to assess Sara's physical state. The mask of relief on the coroner's face as he double-checked his findings. The glare of disdain as he shouted to his still-immobilized friend.

"Grissom! For God's sake! Sara needs you. _NOW_!"

That should have done it. Sara needed him. He needed to help her. He wanted so much for her to be ok, for them to have more time….

For him not to be too late.

He promised all that is holy that he would spend the rest of his life making her feel happy, and safe, and LOVED…

_Please don't take her now…_

Concerned that he had not moved from the doorway, the coroner furrowed his brow, narrowing his gaze, and moved to stand directly in front of his friend. Doc's frantic search of Grissom's dull eyes made his next move deliberate but gentle.

"Gil…it isn't an overdose. Gil…she's didn't…" was all the coroner could get out before he needed to stop and get his emotions in check.

It took several seconds for this information to register. The soothing hand clamped onto his shoulder tightened its grip. Their eyes met. Up to that point, Grissom had not realized his cheeks were wet.

"Gil…I think she is in the throes of a nightmare…probably exacerbated by the medication I prescribed," he said in a self-effacing tone.

"She has nightmares frequently, she told me," were the whispered first words Grissom had uttered in Doc's presence.

"Sara needs you, Gil. She's calling for you. Go on, see if you can rouse her," Al said soothingly.

Fully aware now, Gil strode swiftly to Sara's side and reclined gently on top of the rumpled covers. He gently stroked her arms, attempting to enclose her in the safety of his embrace even though she fought tiredly against him, trying to shield her face from the unwanted attention. He massaged her back in a soothing motion, taking a moment to glance at her face to assess if his actions were having an impact. He saw her remove her hands slowly while still obviously in the throes of the nightmare. Involuntarily, he smiled at her troubled countenance, whispering lines from Romeo and Juliet:

"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.  
O that I were a glove upon that hand,  
That I might touch that cheek."

He again embraced her to his chest, sighing softly at the feel of her. He continued to soothe her with his movements and his soft declarations of love.

"Sara…I love you.

Sara…you're safe.

Sara…it's ok, honey.

Sara…I have you.

Sara…I will never leave you.

Sara…you are everything to me.

Sara…I want you with me always.

Sara…honey, please wake up."

_She continued to feel confused and alone._

_She was fearful of what was going to happen to her, as she felt further restrained from escape._

_She kept calling him. She wanted him to come back. She needed him._

_In the midst of her panic, she heard someone calling her._

_Was it Gil?_

_Had he returned for her?_

_She found herself propelled towards the sound. _

_She felt as if she were flying… She felt…free. _

_------She felt his arms around her._

Her face was wet with tears. Her hair was matted with perspiration. Her chest burned from the workout her nightmare had imposed on her wounds. Her heart was pumping loudly in her chest.

Disoriented, she was slightly uncertain where she was and where Grissom had come from. She remembered flushing the pills, being remarkably tired and going back to bed.

_A nightmare. I was having a nightmare. _

Gil was rocking her gently, continuing to repeat his declarations over and over. Though she did not fully open her eyes, Sara's breathing was returning to normal. She made no attempt at removing herself from his gentle grasp.

Doc Robbins had viewed this entire exchange with some surprise. The degree of emotion in Gil's voice, the gentleness with which he brought Sara within his embrace, the immediate calmative effect of his voice on Sara's nightmare all surprised the coroner. _Perhaps I have underestimated the depth of this relationship, on _both_ sides, _he thought.

Not wanting to intrude on this tender moment, their friend was forced to intervene as he attempted to gain answers to the many questions of what happened in the apartment during Gil's absence.

Walking over to the edge of the bed, Al sat down heavily, jarring Sara slightly. Gil frowned at the reaction Sara emitted, hastily surveying her for injury or pain.

"Sara?"

"I'm fine…"

"NO!…"

Gil paused, closing his eyes. He had promised…

"Sara…" he began again.

She understood, but the coroner was baffled by the exchange.

"I _mean _I am okay, not injured."

Doc interrupted their private conversation. "Sara, what the hell happened to all those painkillers?" To make his point, he was waving the empty pill bottle in front of Sara's face.

Gil bristled at the action. He felt that bottle was a bit _too_ close to her face, and he angrily slapped it out of the way – causing it to smash against the wall with a hollow sound and effecting a sharp cry from the coroner. The exchange was not lost on Sara.

"_What_ is going on here?" she asked, her eyes volleying between the two men whose eyes were locked in a heated glare. But these towers of strength were oblivious to her presence.

"I think it would be best if I talked to Sara _alone_ for a while."

"That _won't_ be necessary. We have no secrets."

"I _think_ she would be more comfortable if I examined her in _private_."

"Why? There _is_ _nothing_ I haven't seen before!"

"_I_ would like to be alone with her for a few minutes!" the doctor said more heatedly, rising from the bed but never taking his eyes off Grissom.

"I don't give a _damn_ what you would like!" Gil said loudly while he strengthened his grip on Sara.

"_You need to leave_ so I can make a diagnosis and…"

"_YOU…you can't_ still be barking up that tree! See for yourself, Sara is fine, she said so herself, she…"

"And I won't _know that_ for sure, will I, unless I conduct a _thorough_ examination which I will begin _AS SOON AS YOU LEAVE!_"

Gil released Sara and stood in front of the coroner, shielding her from the possibility of

further scrutiny by the doctor.

"_YOU_ are not going anywhere near her unless I am present, and if you don't like it, _you_ can _JUST LEAVE_!"

At this point, Sara was concerned that they were going to strike blows at each other. Confused, she attempted to hold onto Gil's right arm to restrain him from what would clearly be an unfair fight. In the heat of the moment, with his eyes fixed on Doc's angry countenance, Gil was only aware that someone was trying to hold him back. He firmly rejected the restraint with an angry jerk of his arm. This caused Sara to propel backwards at such a rate she lost her balance from her kneeling position on the soft mattress. Letting out a small cry, she fell soundly onto her chest, bouncing onto the rough edge of the bedding, smashing her injured face and ribs painfully off that surface.

Having heard her pain-filled yelp, both men turned their attention to Sara just as the impact occurred, each too far away to stop the horrific scene.

If the incident appeared to happen in slow motion, their response was totally the opposite.

"Sara!" Gil cried, moving out of the way for the doctor to more accurately assess her injuries.

"Don't move, Sara!" commanded the doctor. "Help roll her over slowly, Gil."

Tenderly, Gil rolled a weeping Sara to a secure position on the mattress.

Sara took a deep breath and buried her pain once again. She said nothing as Doc gently pushed and prodded over the bruised area. Satisfied that she had done nothing more than painfully impact an already bruised area, he brought a hand up to his face and took a deep breath.

"Sara…you've not done anymore damage…and I am sorry my temper caused you additional pain," the coroner said sorrowfully.

"No, Al…I contributed just as much. Sara…" Gil began, but stopped short when his eyes met her troubled ones.

"_What_ is going on?" Sara whispered, her eyes pleading from one man to the other.

Gil sighed. He sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped Sara silently in his arms. Sitting like that for what seemed like forever without uttering a sound, the doctor was just about to speak when he noticed Gil let go of Sara, capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Then he stood and just walked out of the bedroom, closing the door.

Sara's eyes followed his exit and lingered on the doorway even after it had closed. She already missed the comfort of his arms. Doc's move to sit on the bedside brought her attention back to her worry about their puzzling behavior.

"Sara," Doc began softly. He reached over to take her hand in his and gazed into her anxious eyes. "We need to talk…"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: While this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, I felt it was important to set up the events of the next few chapters. THANKS SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews. Each one is important, valued, and helps to shape the story. –Kathy

Sara and Doc Robbins talked for what would seem like hours.

The night of her blanket incident, she had opened up to him a bit. But she had not told him about the DUI incident. Now, he confronted her about it, wondering aloud about her omission.

Sara was starting feeling the customary withdrawal mode overtaking her. She had disclosed many of her feelings leading up to her accident, feeding her feelings of depression. But he wanted to know _now_ what had exacerbated those feelings, creating the events leading to the DUI.

She had earlier included him in her confidence, widening the circle of trust to now include him as well as Grissom. Had this been a mistake?

Sara was being chastised by her over-protective conscience:

_See? This is the reason you kept things close to your chest for all these years. Now they will go on and on about your "great depression". They will both see you differently. They will treat you differently. They will never really trust you. You will always be a victim in their eyes. How _could _you have been so stupid? This is going to cost you _everything_ you have ever worked for. YOU ARE AN IDIOT, SARA SIDLE!_

As if he could read her thoughts, Doc increased the grip on her hands.

"Sara…I promise you what you say stays here, between us. I won't even discuss with Gil if you don't want. But there are questions I need the answers to. Hard questions. And I need honest answers."

He held his gaze on her eyes until she finally returned his attention moments later.

"Sara, I am worried about you. I am worried that you don't eat nearly enough. I worry that you don't sleep, that nightmares plague you. I worry that you don't rest, that you work too many hours. I worry that you don't have a life outside of the lab…Sara, the way you've been living…is it _really_ the life you have imagined for yourself?"

That last comment hit Sara hard.

_Had she really _ever_ thought about her life? What she would do at 35? 45?_

_She had spent so much time just _surviving_ the hurt from her past… and _dealing _with the pain of loneliness and social isolation she had known since childhood, compounded in recent years by her unsuccessful attempts to win Grissom's heart…had she really ever thought about___living_ and not just _existing

_If you start opening up this Pandora's Box, there will be no going back, Sara._

_Can you really do this? Do you _really want_ to?_

She had opened up to Grissom, and he had not run away.

Her Knight had come and rescued her…and, it seemed, continued to be there to rescue her again and again.

He was here for her even now. He had shown himself to be worthy of her trust.

Perhaps she could trust Doc now. _Please…don't betray my trust…_

Sara sighed.

"Okay, Doc…" she began hesitantly, steering her gaze from his intent stare. "What exactly do you want to know?"

-------------------------------------------

Sofia was unpacking the evidence box marked "McMillan", spreading the contents onto a work lab table. Pulling the top off the sealed container had released the vacuum-like seal. Unbeknownst to Sofia, this action caused a sheet of handwritten notes to adhere to the inside of the lid. In her haste to unpack the box, Sofia tossed the lid to the counter behind her – dislodging the paper. With her back turned to this box top, she was unaware of the lilting motion of the freed object as it floated downward, unobstructed, sliding to its clandestine hiding spot behind the tall waste can below.

As she pulled the middle piece of boxed clothing out, her eyes caught a dated lab report form with writing on it, followed by the hastily written "_Sara_". Looking over her shoulder to be sure she was alone, Sofia read the note. Although it was neatly written, Sofia deduced that the size and shape of the letters gave testament to either extreme fatigue or uncontrolled excitement. _Knowing Sara, it could be both…_smirked Sofia with disdain.

The note was dated for Sara's last workday and read:

csi--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------csi

_**Lab backed up. Greg, run these indicated areas against victim's file. **_

_**Victim blood? Bleach residue?**_

_**Husband testified away – clothes from his secondary residence.**_

__

_**Need this STAT, Greg. Then call Brass – I really think this will get him a warrant.**_

_**This should confirm our hypothesis.!!!!!!!! STAT, Greg! **_

_**Notify me first, before we file our report to Grissom. He will want to present it to Ecklie before taking it to the Sheriff. Breakthrough!**_

_**-Sara**_

csi--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------csi

_Well, well, well…_Sofia grinned. She crumpled up the note into a one inch sphere and watched it make a slam dunk into the waste can. Smoothing the clothing, she could easily see the areas to be tested as the garment was peppered with fluorescent-colored arrows pointing to the near-invisible stains.

Several hours later, Sofia was happily exiting the DNA lab. _I don't know why Sara had so much trouble getting _her_ evidence pushed to the front of the line, _she thought triumphantly, tugging and straightening out her shirt a bit. _The end does justify the means, _she said to no one in particular, as she clasped the readout and headed to Ecklie's office.

------------------------------------------

Gil sat with his head in his hands. It seemed like an eternity since he had kissed Sara lovingly and left her bedroom. He was having trouble breathing, plagued by overwhelming emotion.

_I wanted to kill him._

_I wanted to hurt him for implying Sara was suicidal._

_Not _my_ Sara._

_She's been through so much in her life. _

He sighed.

_Her life…_

Gil sat back and looked around Sara's apartment. It was clean and tidy. It was organized and it was pleasantly decorated.

But there was no indication of the people in her life, people she cared for and cared for her, those who would know the wonder that was Sara Sidle.

No photographs. No mail in the designated container. No messages on the answering machine.

He thought about her accident as he fingered the faded quilt on her sofa. He stared at the injured edges and thought about his pocket knife ripping through it to release her from her quilted prison.

He remembered how he couldn't breathe when he found her. He never wanted to feel that horror again.

He remembered how he had almost physically accosted Doc twice today for his inference that Sara might be severely depressed. A suicide watch? He never wanted to feel that anger again.

He had meant it when he told her "…you're safe…it's ok".

But the truth is…it _wasn't_ ok…._he_ wasn't ok….not with any of it…

As he sat rubbing his fingers absently along the ragged edge, the anger was returning. As he continued to gaze around the small apartment, he became distracted by the overwhelming emotion eating away at his resolve to wait around for Doc to finish.

"I…can't be here like this.

I can't deal with these feelings of _helplessness_ anymore.

I can't make her pain of her _past _disappear.

I can't make the _memories_ of abuse suddenly better for her.

I don't know if I can say the words she needs to hear, to undo the _harm_ that has been _done_…"

He thought of all pain and loneliness she hadn't had time to share with him yet.

This apartment was filled with the reminders of her unhappy life.

He knew all the plans he wanted to make for their future couldn't happen. Not while her past was in her face every time she looked at the lone photo album on her desk, stared at the empty mail container, or wrapped herself in this ugly, timeworn quilt…

His anger overtook his demeanor.

Without realizing it, he had balled the faded quilt into a tight ball. Looking down at the tattered edges, he violently propelled it into the corner of the room, narrowly missing the diminutive potpourri candleholder sitting alone atop the corner bookcase.

He stood suddenly. His features were unreadable as he plunged his hands into his back pocket searching for his keys which were next to his turned-off cell.

_I wish I had known she was this…haunted…before this..._

_I can't stay here anymore…_

And with that he stormed out of her apartment.

On the other side of the bedroom door, unaware of these developments, Sara and Doc were reaching the turning point of the most important conversation of Sara's career.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter is up tonight because I couldn't sleep knowing some of you were concerned about what was going on in Gil's mind, while I knew exactly what was going on. : ) So this chapter might not deal with too much of Sofia, as I need to resolve this section of the storyline and finally return to restful sleep. Hope it pleases. Your reviews motivate me and continue to help shape this story. Thanks for your continued support of this sequel. You are the best!

–Kathy

Immediately after he closed the door, but before he hit the top of the stairway leading out of her apartment building, Gil Grissom froze. He berated himself for not leaving at least a small message for Sara before he left. She would be confused at his absence, and he had given her enough cause for worry over the past few months.

Quickly, he reentered the apartment, noticing her bedroom door was still closed. Unable to find a pen or paper, he approached the answering machine and pressed the MEMO button. Just as quickly, he removed his finger. How could he say this so she would understand?

Finally gathering his thoughts, he took a deep breath and depressed the button again.

"Sara…I…..couldn't stay any longer…I….I….think….Sara, we need to talk….I will be back later…uh…get some rest, ok?….and Sara….take care of yourself…"

He sighed. _You can deliver addresses before hundreds of scientists at conventions all over the country, but you can't leave a coherent message on a DAMN ANSWERING MACHINE!!!"_

As he stood eyeing the tiny living room area, his anger was resurfacing. Fueled by his emotional reaction to these surroundings, Gil once again charged out of Sara's apartment.

Once he reached his Denali, he immediately reverted to the self-assured, organized, multi-tasking mode that gained him the reputation as a hands-on supervisor on the graveyard shift. Only instead of sending CSIs out on a myriad of assignments into the field, he put his cell in its dashboard cradle, set it on loudspeaker, and then proceeded to set an emerging plan in motion as he headed out of town towards the desert.

His first call was to his housekeeping agency.

Finally reaching the duo who serviced his townhouse on a regular basis, they agreed to visit his home right away. After a brief flurry of instructions, he alerted them to expect the moving van within the next three hours.

He gave instructions on crating the materials in his den, which he reminded them was the large screened-in room just off the kitchen, overlooking the backyard. The movers were to take away the boxes to the paid storage facility he rented just off the strip.

He thanked them when the cleaning crew said they would be there shortly and would dust and vacuum the area after the movers had left.

His next call was to the moving company.

Having arranged for them to visit his storage facility on their way to the townhouse to make room for some additional items, Grissom gave them a list of things that would be needed by the housekeepers to complete the job in the den. The company's owner assured his reputable customer that all things required would be attended to immediately, and Gil thanked him for being able to pack up his belongings on such short notice.

Gil Grissom had done many favors for people throughout the years. These contacts were proving useful today. But he had made few _true_ friends. He smiled as he viewed Las Vegas through his rearview mirror, turned onto the main highway heading out into the desert, then reached for his phone again.

The ringing of his next call reverberated throughout his vehicle. On the fourth ring, he heard the receptionist's greeting.

"Entomology Institute and Reserve. How may I direct your call?"

"Dr. Stephen Azure, please"

"Just one moment please." "Institute Director's Office. How may I help you?"

"This is Gil Grissom. May I speak to Dr. Azure, please?"

"Dr. Grissom! So nice to hear from you! It's been a while, sir. Just one moment, please."

After only a brief interlude,

"Gil! What's going on, man? Must be important if you are calling at this hour! Finally taking me up on my offer to quit Vegas and join me here full time?"

Gil answered as the other voice ended. "I am on my way to see you, actually. And yes…there is something you can do for me…"

_-----------------------------------------------------_

Doc Robbins was seated facing Sara, noting that their long discussion was taking its toll on Sara. But he pressed further, knowing her fatigue would cause fewer defenses to be employed – giving him the clearest picture of Sara's emotional and mental state.

She worked hard at maintaining eye contact with him. Once Sara decided to let him into her circle of trust, she wanted to give him the facts calmly, and convey to him that this was a monumental step forward for her.

They had rehashed more of her past, she even shared the tiniest tidbit of the horror of abuse she suffered not only at the hands of her father, but also while in foster care. It was all she could bear to offer him now. The coroner squelched the pain of his heartbreak for this amazing woman, and continued to demonstrate that he sincerely appreciated the effort she was making.

Still, one final issue needed to be addressed. It was, in fact, the crux of the diagnosis.

"Sara…" he began hesitantly. Then he sat tall and looked her straight in the eyes.

Those eyes, he thought. _The window to her soul_.

"Have you ever…thought about ending your life?"

There it was.

The question she knew was imbedded in his desire for details in all the information he had demanded. However she willed herself to remain steady, returning his gaze as she simply replied,

"Yes."

Her candor unsettled him, but he pressed further.

"Have you ever…thought about exactly how you would do it?"

"Yes," she replied a bit too quickly. "The night of the DUI."

Again, her swift response left him feeling a bit off kilter. She almost demonstrated a spark of…defiance?…challenge?...in either case, there certainly was no hesitancy here…

He pressed further.

"And after that?"

Here is where Sara's demeanor began to puzzle him again. She sat back almost wistfully and that faraway look reclaimed her eyes.

"Yes, but…," she stopped and covered her face with her hands to focus her thoughts.

_She's tired. Too tired for falsehoods. I'd like to stop, but I _need_ to know…"_

"Sara!" he spoke a bit too forcefully, "What _about _after the DUI? _Did you_…"

She did not allow him to finish before snapping her eyes angrily back at him,

"It wouldn't help! Don't you see? I wanted to lie down and die.

Only there, with the beauty of nature all around me,

_I WAS STILL ALONE!_

_DYING JUST MAKES YOU ALONE FOREVER!_

_FOREVER!_

_WITH NO CHANCE OF DOING IT OVER!_

_IF I KILLED MYSELF… DON'T YOU SEE?_

_I WOULD BE A VICTIM AGAIN, BUT THIS TIME IT WOULD BE AT MY OWN HANDS!!!!"_

The emotional revelation was too much for Sara. She lay her head quietly back onto the pillow, turning to burying her face softly into the comfort of the cushioned softness.

_And not a tear…_observed her friend, as he reached over to massage her back lightly in small soothing circles. _One of the strongest women…one of the strongest _people…_I've ever known._

He stood and picked up the empty pill container that had precipitated his verbal battle with Grissom over two hours ago.

Returning to the bedside, he spoke gently to Sara about the strength of the medication and her correct assumption that her symptoms were evidence of his prescribing error.

She allowed him to recheck her bruising, and he noted that the swelling was receding at a somewhat advanced pace, while the bruising was already lightening from his earlier inspection.

_This rate of repair does speak encouragingly of her general overall good health._

Doc turned her slightly to regain her attention. Though extremely tired, Sara wanted to hear it-

_The_ _verdict._

"Sara," the doctor began, taking her hand. "I am satisfied you are working through your depression, your mood is lifting and you are focusing on maintaining a generally positive emotional state…and I am satisfied you are _not _a threat – to yourself or to others." He could feel her body tense with those final words of his revelation, but she did not attempt to withdraw her hand.

"However,"

Doc took note that this utterance caused her eyes to widen perceptibly,

"we need to discuss your general _physical_ state. Sara, I estimate you are severely underweight by about fifteen pounds. We need to take immediate steps to help you regain some body mass and regulate your diet so as to prevent you from suffering a setback that could hospitalize you…"

He paused as he felt her body stiffen.

_Ok, Sara…that's enough for one day…_

He patted her hand sweetly. "But we can talk about this tomorrow. Could you rest a bit now?"

Sara's response was a gentle nod as she closed her eyes. Doc covered her with her well-worn comforter, one of the two family heirloom coverlets her mother had created which she had been allowed to keep with her in foster care, keeping the bedside light on in an effort to fend off another nightmare.

He needed to see Grissom.

As Doc closed the bedroom door softly, he turned to engage Gil in conversation about Sara.

The room was empty, save for the blinking red signal beckoning from the answering machine.

_Gris-som!!!! Where the HELL are you?…_ he thought angrily as he whipped out his phone hitting the speed dial number.

When it went immediately to voice mail, the doctor left an angry message with a barely veiled threat of bodily harm if the call was not returned soon. Hanging up angrily, he stalked over to the machine and depressed the PLAY button.

Upon hearing the message, he instinctively turned towards the bedroom door.

Doc Robbins closed his eyes, and sighed.

_Please…Gil…don't hurt her again._

-------------------------------------------------

The implication of the scene unfolding before her was not lost on Catherine.

Having just returned from a case, she was surprised to see Sofia sauntering down the hallway with that spring in her step. She was even more surprised to see Ecklie turn the corner to catch up with her, and lay one of his grimy hands on the small of her back as they walked.

Intrigued, she casually followed them through the maze of corridors that led to the Sheriff's office. She watched as they stopped in front of the door emblazoned with the sheriff's name, standing a bit too close while Ecklie knocked, all the while Sofia giving him an all-knowing smile.

_What the hell is she doing at the sheriff's? with Ecklie?_

Her puzzlement deepened as Ecklie opened the door and Sofia sacheted smoothly inside. Ecklie followed, but not before Catherine caught sight of the CSI file folder he brandished while shutting the door.

_That folder is tagged as being an ongoing investigation! I was not aware that we were close to wrapping up _any_ of our active files! I am certain Grissom would have indicated that on his briefing sheet! WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE????_

------------------------------------------------------

The drive back from the desert took longer than he had expected. Having made a quick stop at the gift shop of the Reserve Museum had also put him well past the time he had expected to return to the townhouse.

When he reached home, darkness was almost upon him. Grissom unloaded the few packages into the garage and then went back to retrieve the large enclosed canvas cylinder from the back of the Denali.

Entering the townhouse, he was met with the unmistakable scent of polish and cleaners. He walked quickly through the first floor rooms, heading straight to the den. Opening the door from the kitchen entryway, Gil stopped and surveyed the finished work of the cleaning crew. They had done exactly what he had requested.

Where there used to be boxes of old case files now stood a short bookcase filled with a variety of large conch shells, unusually colored seashells, varied sizes of multi-hued coral, and imaginative pieces of polished driftwood. After his move to the townhouse from his college teaching days, he had stored them away for a "rainy day", when he hoped to have time to unpack and enjoy them.

Where there used to be nondescript white mini blinds, the bow window and matching sliding glass door were now adorned with softly-draped lengths of translucent sky-blue silk, which he had purchased during his research travel through China during his doctoral studies. This material had been stored in boxes since his arrival in Vegas.

The area where there used to be an old computer desk and file cabinet now housed an oversized divan which he happily noted was covered in sandy-colored soft brocade. He had gotten this lounger as part of his living room set, but chose to purchase a recliner instead of using this piece. Gil had the divan placed in his storage facility.

The entire area had been covered with light brown wooden parquetry flooring. The room was enlivened by an almost-room sized scatter rug edged in pastel butterflies, still showing the slight indentations from being rolled and stored for many years.

The corner where the open crates of jarred specimens had housed his most recent experiments now housed a narrow, wheeled cart containing a satellite radio home receiver with speakers. The housekeepers had chosen to hang his healthy, fully blossoming spider plant from a ceiling hook above this corner unit.

The shelf of the bow window overlooking the perennials garden at the back of the property now housed a homeopathic serenity waterfall. Gil turned on the device and smiled as he imagined Sara relaxing under the hypnotic spell of the water slowly cascading down the well appointed rock sculpture.

Staring overhead, he was glad he had heeded the salesperson's advice on the ceiling fan blades. He had chosen a bamboo patterned set mimicking palm leafs in color and shape.

He stepped back and surveyed the room. Satisfied that things had been done according to his specifications, he retrieved the packages from the doorway.

He unwrapped a new handmade quilt from the museum gift shop. Edged in soft satin, the patchwork contained dragonflies and butterflies in a myriad of designs and rainbow pastels. He folded it gently onto the bottom edge of the divan, placing the two coordinating toss pillows at the top of the comfortable lounger.

Finally, he placed the large enclosed canvas cylinder on the small rattan end table flanking the divan.

He smiled, but it quickly faded.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed with doubts. He was right to do this, wasn't he?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_I want this to be a new start for her. _

_I want this to become her home – a _real _home._

_I want her to forget all about that life when those people who should have loved her _didn't_…_

_and decided not to…_

_and cast her aside…like she was nothing…_

_making her feel unwanted…_

_and abandoned…_

_I want her to leave behind the painful memories of all those people who _hurt_ her…_

His anger was returning.

_No more, Sara!_

_No more pain!_

_No more tears!_

_No more loneliness!_

_No more neglect!_

_No more patchwork quilted reminders of your past!_

_No more nightmares…no more!_

_No more!_

_NO MORE!_

He wanted this remodeled haven to be his tangible offering of the new life he envisioned for her.

For _them_.

But what _would_ she think about this idea…this expression of his loving commitment to her?

Looking at the newly remodeled room with now-opened eyes, he smiled again.

It was as close to their beachside retreat as he could get.

_She was going to love this…_

Uncharacteristically unable to hide his excitement, Grissom turned quickly, grabbing his keys deftly in one hand.

He got out of the Denali, anxiously wishing the distance was shorter, as he headed back to Sara's apartment.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks for all the positive comments. Your reviews help me update with enthusiasm. Sofia will return in the next chapter because these two wouldn't stop whispering in my ear about what happened next. Thanks for staying with this story. You are terrific! -Kathy

Grissom unlocked the front door and stepped into Sara's dimly lit apartment. He turned around to close and lock the door quietly. Coming back around he was startled to find himself face to face with an angry Doc Robbins.

"You never learn do you?" snarled the coroner quietly.

"I don't have time for his now, Al" hissed Grissom. "I need to see Sara."

The doctor blocked his path. Moving into his personal space, he bit back, "I don't think that would be a good idea right now."

Panic seized him. Grissom's angry, dismissive demeanor was immediately replaced with a look of worried concern. "Sara?..." he breathed as his eyes flew from Doc to Sara's bedroom door.

A tiny slice of guilt tugged at Al's conscience. He should have realized the worry his comment would cause. But he had been angry at the CSI for the way he left, and he had paced furiously for the last hour waiting to see if Gil would even return.

He had been so sure Gil was going to flee from the commitment that was going to be required of him if Sara was truly to get her life back on track. He had wanted him to feel a tenth of the torment she had endured at his hands. Gil had pulled her in and pushed her away so many times that even the lab techs who were not intimately involved with them had gossiped about his erratic behavior towards her.

There needed to be a consequence for his running away. Those comments _were_ aimed at making Gil worried, a verbal slap across the face to _really_ get his attention this time.

However, now standing face to face with this anxious soul, he felt compelled to put his friend at ease. Doc sighed, momentarily casting his glance away from Grissom.

He said quietly, "She's sleeping, Gil. It was a hard session. I didn't give her any meds, but she should be out for quite a while."

Anger returned to Grissom's features. "Well, it didn't _need _to be!"

He stepped forward, almost knocking into the doctor's crutch.

"I _told _you she was fine! No useful purpose was served by your…_inquisition…_other than to upset her when she is still recuperating!"

Grissom was unprepared for the heavy artillery the doctor was about to wield in his direction.

"_Upset _her?! It wasn't _me_ who would upset her today by doing the only thing that seems to come naturally to you – running away when she needs you _most_!" He took a breath to compose himself.

His words were almost whispers, dripping with disdain. "What do you think you are _doing_ here, Grissom? Is this some kind of _sick game_ for you?" Grissom reacted to this by narrowing his eyes and tightening his fists.

Doc was actively opening and closing his own tightly clenched fists, restraining his emotions to keep from decking this man and knocking those rolling eyes right out of his head.

"It's like…a bizarre form of…_human Hangman_ – she guesses the right letter to keep your attention and you let her play for a while, then she randomly guesses a letter _you don't want_ in your well-ordered life and you push her away…to put another bit of the gallows together for her?"

It was getting difficult to breathe, but he needed to finish his tirade.

"Well, let me tell you something _Doctor Grissom_, she is at the _end of her rope_!"

This comment made the shocked criminalist wince.

The metaphor had hit home. He had found Sara literally so deep in despair she wanted to end it all.

He had heard it and seen it.

Lady G. had told him in their Better Place.

And he found he still wondered about the rescue at the seashore.

_Sara…give me time to make it better._

Gil found his anger returning full force, much of it targeted back onto his own past actions and inaction towards Sara.

There was a long silence as the two men glared into the depths of each other's eyes. This stalemate would have continued if it were not for the faint feminine voice in the background.

"_Please_…what is going on between you two?"

Gil broke the stare-down, and began to step forward, but his movements were suddenly thwarted by a well-placed crutch.

While his gaze remained on Grissom, Doc Robbins said pointedly, attempting to hide the emotion in his voice, "Sara, why don't you go back and lay down for a bit? We will be in to see you shortly."

Sara just stood there taking in the view. She spotted the red light blinking on the answering machine. Gingerly moving towards it, Grissom spoke tersely, "Leave it Sara…I…I…just left you a message to tell you I was leaving…for a while…and…"

Her gaze stopped him in his track. She braced her hands on either side of the machine as she depressed the memo button. She listened to him attempting to hide the agitation in his voice:

"_Sara…I…..couldn't stay any longer…I….I….think….Sara, we need to talk….I will be back later…uh…get some rest, ok?….and Sara…take care of yourself…"_

The coroner bristled as Grissom pleaded with her, "Sara…please honey…look at me…"

It took her a while to turn to face him, obviously trying to compose herself to hide her disappointment.

"I'm fine."

She turned to Doc. "I think I will go lie down for awhile."

Sara gulped back the knot in her throat and mustered a weak smile. "Grissom, um, thank you…it was good of you to come back, but I am okay now. I'll…be out for the rest of the week and …I'll see you…later…"

Gil prepared to rush to her, but he was body blocked by the coroner. Furious, he grabbed the doctor by his shoulders, attempting to remove the obstacle in his path without injuring him. The two tangled until they heard a frantic scream from the other side of the room.

"Stop it! _STOP IT_!...I _won't _have you at each other!…I _know_ it is because of me!" Sara was becoming lightheaded. Doc noticed the change in her condition immediately.

"I can't _do _this…be the _cause_ of this!" It had been two days without a substantial meal. Her blood sugar was low. The excitement, compounded by her weakened state, was causing a sharp drop in blood pressure.

"Just _go home_! _Both_ of you!" She noticed a few fuzzy dots in front of her eyes. Gil's training alerted him to the change in the strength and volume of her voice. "_Sara!_"

They both had left their positions from the doorway as she uttered her last weakened plea.

"I don't _need_ you…_either _of you…I'm…fine…..just…go……just…" she felt the darkness overtaking her. She would have plummeted to the ground had Gil's strong arms not been there to support her beneath the knees and shoulders.

He lifted her gently, moved to sit on the couch, holding her in his arms with her legs sprawled out over his lap. Doc was there assessing her condition.

He raised his eyes to Grissom briefly, before searching for something to raise her legs. Doc spied the balled up quilt in the corner of the room and crutches clicked as he dashed to retrieve it.

All the while, Gil was holding her tightly to him, pleading softly with her to come back to him. He found himself using the same words he had spoken so lovingly before the start of all the hell she had endured today. They were truths to him now. His heart pleaded with her, as his voice soothed over and over:

"Sara…I love you.

Sara…you're safe.

Sara…it's ok, honey.

Sara…I have you.

Sara…I will never leave you.

Sara…you are everything to me.

Sara…I want you with me always.

Sara…honey, please wake up."

Once again, the doctor stood and observed the scene. It should have squelched the doubts he had about Gil's sincerity. But a sliver of concern made his next statement sting.

"Words are great, Gil. But actions speak louder."

Grissom's gaze flew from Sara's face to angrily settle on Doc's. Through gritted teeth, he spoke:

"I mean _every_ word. I _do_ love her. And the _hell with you_ if you think I have to prove it to _you_!"

The staring contest resumed, both men adamantly resolved to protect Sara from the designs of the other. It might have gone on longer, except for Sara's low moan and slight movement.

"Sara!" Gil said softly, holding her to him.

"Sara, look at me," the doctor intoned at the same time.

For a moment, he wondered if Gil would release her and allow him to examine her. But his friend was so concerned about Sara that he instinctively gave her over to the doctor's capable hands.

Having finished a quick check, he sat on the coffee table and waited for Sara's grogginess to dissipate before speaking. All the while, Gil held her in a secure grip while Doc refused to relinquish her hand.

All the attention made Sara claustrophobic and she became combative, fighting off their concern by flailing her arms and legs and shouting repeatedly,

"Let _go_ of me!"

As she started to struggle in earnest, she found herself being pulled back to the darkness. She hated this feeling. _What is wrong with me?_

The two men who cared for her deeply noticed the changes also. They began in tandem to reassure her and get her to calm down.

When she voluntarily stilled her movements, Doc set about to check her vitals somewhat frantically.

Observing the doctor's concern made Gil react by clenching her tightly and running his hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her.

Doc Robbins sighed, knowing the reception his next statement would receive.

"Sara, I think it might be best to get you to a hospital for a few days…to stabilize your condition."

Those words made Sara lay perfectly still.

_Her thoughts envisioned an admit slip with the diagnosis of DEPRESSION_.

Her mind's folly saw all kinds of doctors prodding and invading her personal space.

_No. She knew she wouldn't be able to endure it._

They would give her drugs and make her take them against her will.

_No. She would lose her control. She needed to maintain control of her life, or …it would happen again. Someone would violate her again!_

The nightmares would have free rein without her control intact.

_No. _

_NO!_

"NO!" she screamed forcefully, the stark terror evident in her pleading brown eyes.

"Sara," Doc began gently, trying to take hold of her hand only to find her slapping at his attempts in an uncharacteristically hysterical fashion.

"SARA!" Doc said sternly as tried again to gain control of the situation.

Sara turned her face to Grissom, pleading with him. 

"Gil, please…no hospitals…please…help me…please...save me…"

He had heard these words from her nightmare. He remembered his promise:

"_I will __never__ knowingly do anything to hurt you,_

_and that includes going against your wishes. _

_That is my promise."_

"Honey, relax. It's ok. You are not going anywhere you don't want to go", he cooed softly into her hair. She relaxed against him.

He returned the angry glare coming from the coroner. But before Doc could utter another word, Gil deftly had maneuvered them to a standing position. And without a word, while Sara burrowed herself into the safety of his arms, he made his way towards the door.

Stunned, Doc could only watch as they moved through the now-opened doorway. He sighed as he continued to watch the empty space of the doorway. After a few moments, he turned to view the scene around him. _What had just happened here?_

With a small crooked smile, Doc moved towards the answering machine. He stared at the blinking red light for a long moment, remembering the hurt in Sara's eyes as she finished listening to Grissom's message. _I'll protect you, Sara,…from Grissom himself if need be. This is not over, Grissom! Make your moves wisely from now on…"_

And with that, he hit the Memo button, following the instructions to delete the current message. The red light removed itself from the display.

And the doctor removed himself from the apartment, still anxious about what would happen to Sara. He tiredly headed home, looking forward to hugging and loving his waiting wife.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for the continued support in reading this story. Your reviews really matter and help shape this work in progress, so please consider leaving one after reading. Hope this chapter clears up some of the questions you had from an earlier chapter. I was smiling as these two shared their story with me in this chapter. I hope you will be smiling, too! -Kathy

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Sofia was nestled happily in the comfortable plush visitor's chair in the Sheriff's office. Though she had tried to keep abreast of the often heated exchanges between Ecklie and the Sheriff, her mind kept returning to her stroke of good fortune.

Finding Sara's note hidden amidst the evidence was good luck indeed, Sofia smiled inwardly. She recalled every word that had been hastily scrawled on that paper Sara had hidden in the midst of the evidence under scrutiny. Ignoring the male posturing going on beside her, Sofia thought about Sara's notes:

_**Lab backed up. Greg, run these indicated areas against victim's file. **_

_Sara had found the evidence both Warrick and Nick had missed. She had left fluorescent arrows to be sure Greg would find them and run the appropriate tests. I have to admit, that girl is brilliant. It took me forever to find the minute areas of evidence, even with the obvious tags._

_**Victim blood? Bleach residue?**_

_If those stains _had_ been bleached, the DNA would have been compromised. Yet, there _were_ the two areas that did not seem to react positively to Sara's second test for bleach. Anyone else would have dismissed them the first time. Sara is extremely thorough. I know I personally would not have had the patience to process the clothing in this detailed manner._

_**Husband testified away – clothes from his secondary residence. ????????? **_

_Leave it to Sara to take the plunge and connect seemingly disparate statements, linking them to a motive and method. This girl _is_ good!_

_**Need this STAT, Greg. **_

_Sorry, Sara,_ Sofia gloated, _but darling Greg will never see your instructions. I got rid of your note and had the yummy lab tech do a favor for me (after I did one for him…)…all in a day's work…_

_**Then call Brass – I really think this will get him a warrant.**_

_I saw no need to bother Brass. Ecklie was MORE than happy to take this directly to the Sheriff. What a pat on the back for him…and of course, there'll be a little something for _me_…_

_**This should confirm our hypothesis.!!!!!!!! STAT, Greg! **_

_Sorry, Sara dear, but it has now been officially reported as MY hypothesis…and that buffoon Greg will never be the wiser…_

_**Notify me first, before we file our report to Grissom. **_

_Ah, yes, Grissom…I am sure he will be delighted that he assigned me to finish your evidence review…soon, I will see to it that I am _irreplaceable_ to him…thanks, hon…._

_**He will want to present it to Ecklie before taking it to the Sheriff.**_

_I'm sure he will understand why I had to take it to Ecklie myself, what with the time constraints and the Sheriff breathing down everyone's neck…Too bad you chose _now_ to take your little sick leave…don't worry, though…I'm still planning to make your absence _permanent_…_

_**Breakthrough!**_

_It certainly was…that murdering louse is being arrested as I sit here…that Sheriff certainly knows how to wield his power…sigh…such an attractive quality in a man…perhaps one day…_

_**-Sara**_

_Sorry, dear. The official report was signed _Sofia Curtis

As if it were an echo, the Sheriff almost gently repeated his earlier call, "Sofia Curtis!"

"Sorry, just lost in thought there…about the case," Sofia cooed softly, endearing herself again to the Sheriff.

"Sofia," the Sheriff shifted to appear a bit more erect, "you've done excellent work in this case. Conrad has told me how you have uncovered evidence missed by the graveyard crew – and I have always had the highest regard for their work. Warrick, Stokes, Sidle…"

"Yes, well," Conrad interrupted hastily. "Lately, Sidle _has_ been a bit off her mark..."

The Sheriff had known for some time that Sara was on Conrad's "list". But he _was_ hard pressed to argue with that point of view now, considering that she had been the last person of record to review the evidence, yet had found nothing relevant to the case.

"As a matter of fact, with her past record, and now her requiring a week's sick leave…"

"Oh, is there a problem with her, Conrad? Something job related?"

Conrad grimaced at this. _Robbins said it wasn't job related, so I don't get to pursue the matter. They always stick up for each other, don't they?_ he snarled inwardly.

"Well, I haven't actually _talked_ with her myself. Doctor Robbins was the person who handed in the request, but…"

"Conrad, he is personal physician to many of the LVPD – hell, he has handled most of _my _medical work for years!" sighed the Sheriff as he sat back in his chair, indicating the conversation was coming to a close.

"But you see, I suspect…" Conrad began in earnest, only to be interrupted by the Sheriff's final comment on the matter. "If there is anything to be concerned about, I am sure Grissom will let us know. He's a _very thorough_ supervisor. Now," he paused, turning his smiling attention towards Sofia, his body language bringing an end to the discussion.

"Sofia, I want you and Conrad to be at the press conference at 1 o'clock. I want to be sure everyone knows of your invaluable assistance in resolving this case successfully. Also," he continued with a satisfied grin, "I am sure Conrad will excuse us while we discuss some… satisfactory ideas…for rewarding your efforts in this case."

A stunned Ecklie rose out of habit, a robot programmed to know when he was being dismissed. Sofia leaned forward in her chair, anxious to see what good would come from claiming recognition for the work Sara had done. "Why, thank you, Sheriff…" _and thank YOU, Sara Sidle!_

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Sara opened her eyes, but the thoughts quickly came that she was still asleep.

The wind blew softly through the transparent blue silk covering the windows. There was a sweet tinkling of a wind chime in the distance, and the soft lull of a classical piano refrain filling the air around her.

Her hands were stroking the soft satin of a soft-as-air comforter, which made her grin at the butterfly and dragonfly patchwork designs. She nestled back into the comfortable softness of this bedding.

For a moment, she felt she was in their Better Place.

But Gil was not here.

Reality came crashing back, alarming her as to where he had taken her. She threw back the covers and started to raise herself hurriedly, yet painfully, from her supine position when she heard him calling to her from the doorway, "Sara…it's ok, honey."

She looked up to see him leaning against the open door with a tray in his hands. He was giving her one of his heart stopping smiles. She relaxed into the warmth of the divan. He set the tray down on the side table after removing the covered canvas cylinder.

"Where is this place?" she queried, a huge smile telling him that she was comfortable and happy here.

"Sara…" he began, suddenly nervous and unsure of her response to his next statement. "I was hoping…that is…" he closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

Sara took his hands in hers to reassure him. She was here with him. _Where_ didn't matter.

Feeling the pressure of her hands on his gave him the courage he had found lacking. He released his hands from her gentle grip, and brought her gently into his arms. He held on to her for what seemed like forever, with the strains of Moonlight Serenade lilting through the airy space around them.

He pulled back only far enough to look into her eyes. She was still confused but her eyes conveyed the trust she was safe, and that he would tell her when he could.

He kissed her softly. And then again. And then again.

And then again.

Breaking off their last kiss, he breathed in the scent of her – vanilla and peaches.

He smiled and said,

"Sara…if you will agree…I'd like to welcome you…_home_…"

She had no reaction.

At first he thought she had not heard him. But the pronouncement was of such monumental importance to him, that he could not bring himself to repeat it.

She just stared at him.

And he looked into her eyes, stunned silence gluing their stares together.

Then she did the unthinkable.

She laughed.

At first, he thought she had sneezed, her movements mimicking this body action.

Then, she released him and brought her hands to her mouth, her wide hands not successful in completely covering her gap toothed smile.

Her eyes left his face, roaming around the room. Confusion knit her brow, but could do nothing to remove the smile.

Had he saved her from horrors of a hospital, only to bring her to a sanitarium of sorts? Was this a beachside convalescence home? A minimum security nursing facility?

None of these options seemed to fit. She stared back into his eyes.

Home?

Could he mean…really…with him?

Finally, his silence was rewarded by a quivering sound emanating from her lips: "_Home?"_

Satisfied she was not totally against the idea, he hugged her again before bringing his face flush with hers.

"Honey…yes…home…with me…for as long as you want…forever, I hope…but yes…home.

I want us to have a home…together…because…I love you, Sara Sidle…"

Tears formed in both their eyes, blurring but not covering their looks of happiness.

"Home," she said quietly, before she emitted both tears and a squeal of delight as she hugged him to her. "Home."

After a few moments, while still in her embrace he leaned her back onto her pillow and kissed her fully, followed by kisses carefully peppered around the bruising and all over her face and neck until she giggled so hard he had to join in the laughter as well.

It was good to hear her laugh.

"Oh, "he said suddenly, sitting upright and taking her hand, a wide smile on his face.

"I almost forgot your homecoming present," he smiled anxiously, hoping she would like it.

Sara sat up happily, propping a pillow behind her back. Gil reached over and deposited the canvas covered cylinder next to her on the divan.

She looked it over from top to bottom before eyeing him quizzically. He held his hands up palms forward, then raised himself off the divan to stand nearby, waiting to help her remove the cover, unable to contain his boyish grin.

Knowing she could trust him not to present her with anything dangerous, her curiosity made her want to tear into the canvas. She searched around the wide container, and finding no rip-away seam, she glanced up adoringly at him.

"Just lift it to remove the outer cover," he smirked at her, enjoying her delight in this surprise.

He held the top as she smoothed the canvas sides upwards. Just as she extended her arms to the full, separating the two pieces, he removed the outer shell with a bit of a flourish –

-and two dozen multi-hued butterflies fluttered out of their darkened cell to fully brighten Sara's delighted smile.

"Gil…oh, my word…Gil…" was all that Sara could utter as she watched in total joy the delicate movements of the butterflies.

He joined her on the divan, taking her into his warm embrace as she tiredly laid her head on his chest. The events of the day were taking their toll on her, but she would not surrender to sleep while this wondrous scene unfolded before her.

The beauty of the setting, the serenity of the fluttering shapes alighting haphazardly on the transparent silken curtain and the flourishing spider plant, the soft strains of a piano concerto, the gentle breeze from the frond-shaped ceiling fan, the silken edged comforter, the safety of his loving embrace - put together in this moment, they caused Sara to experience a feeling she had only dreamed about.

Home.

He kissed the top of her drooping head softly as he felt her nodding off toward much needed sleep.

"Sara? Welcome home."

The last sound he thought he heard uttered softly from the edge of her dreams was

"Home."

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_My main objectives concerning Sara Sidle:Remove, Restrain, Replace._

_Objective One accomplished!_ Sofia grinned as she sauntered happily down the hallway away from the Sheriff's office.

Lead Materials CSI. A new title for a new position, and the Sheriff had handed it to her on a silver platter.

The lab was going to be reconfigured, and Sara and Greg would now be assistants to _her_ whenever they were not out in the field. _And there will be nothing they can do about it_, Sofia smirked evilly, _if they want to continue working in the crime lab_.

Sofia smiled happily. She wanted to be a fly on that wall when Ecklie gave Sara _that _news.

_That prim puss had always been given the unofficial nod as the "go to" girl when it came to Materials Analysis. Hell, her work in this last case proved she earned the title. _

_But now, _Sofia gloated_, now she works under _me_. And Conrad has certainly demonstrated that you can gain a lot of stature by supervising a star player! Look at the prestige "his" lab earns off the back of the prominent _Gil Grissom

She lost her momentum for a moment, her stride slowing to a stop. Lost in the moment of triumph, she had forgotten about Grissom. What _would_ Grissom say to all this? After all, it all had happened while he was on break.

She knew he was very protective of his team.

She knew he was very protective of _one member_ of his team in particular, even if the others were clueless. _One thing I pride myself on – knowing my competition._

She had to be sure he understood that this had come from Ecklie and the Sheriff, and she had _no_ part in it. _Yeah, I think I can pull that off, _she thought, her happiness, as well as her stride, returning full force. She found herself hoofing it down the hallway leading to Brass' office.

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Jim Brass had been a detective long before he became involved with the CSI unit. He was inherently suspicious of most people he couldn't get a handle on.

And he couldn't get a handle on Sofia Curtis.

Brass had observed two things about Curtis from her first days at the lab:

_she was ambitious__ and __she had eyes for Grissom._

This made her dangerous in his opinion. Most of the graveyard shift were like family to him. They cared for each other, had each other's backs…but Sofia looked out for number one, meaning she would stab any one of them in the back to get ahead.

He had never trusted Ecklie, and she seemed to have him wrapped around that perky little finger.

He had never cared for the suggestive way she strutted her stuff, especially when a large percentage of the lab's male population were putty in her hands. Coming from an adulterous marriage, Brass reacted negatively to women who used their wiles to confuse and dominate men, using them to get what they wanted only to move on when a better mark came along.

Yes, he understood the danger that was Sofia Curtis.

That is why her predilection for Grissom concerned him.

_That man was_ _clueless about women like Sofia._

_He had the love of a certain brunette for years, a wonderful woman who had captured _my_ heart years ago. She was like a daughter to me. Anyone could see she was worth the risk, she'd love you unconditionally. And forever. Yet the world's most brilliant scientist failed to take his head out of his microscope, and kept pushing her away._

_Yes, Grissom was far from worldly when it came to dames…and Sofia would be able to wind her way into his confidences without him even being aware. _

Yes, he was worried about his friend.

So, when he answered the knock on his office door, his radar went into overdrive and his shields were fortified as he asked the blonde _femme fatale_ to enter.

_What do you want from me that you can't get anywhere else? _Brass cried mentally, while his practiced demeanor calmly smiled and greeted, "Sofia, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Thanks for all the great reviews. Tonight's Super Bowl gave me time to write, but these two wanted one more happy chapter before things heated up. Please remember to leave a review, it helps shape the story. Look for the next update later next weekend. Thanks for your support of this sequel. –Kathy

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During the next 24 hours, Gil was sure Sara had plenty of sleep and plenty to eat. He decided the best approach to helping her gain back her strength was to ply her with a multitude of small meals. Each time she awoke, there was a small fruit salad, a protein shake, or a bowl of macadamia nuts for her to snack on.

She smiled more than he remembered seeing in all the time he knew her. Perhaps that was because he did not leave her side when she was awake, and had accompanied her to their Better Place during several of her rest periods.

He loved taking care of her, seeing her respond to his efforts to help her regain her strength, both physically and emotionally. _She seems happy_, he smiled softly as he gazed at her prone figure stretched out on the divan.

When a butterfly softly landed on her open palm, he saw her eyes flutter open for a moment, listened to her sigh contentedly, then watched her eyes close again as she returned to her dreams with a smile on her face.

_She seems…_he paused as he caught his own reflection in the side mirrors of the entryway where he stood. … I _ seem happy…_he smiled…_love will do that to you…._

He placed the tray of nibbles on the small end table next to where she slept. Gil leaned over to kiss her softly before joining her on the divan. He cuddled up close, scooping her in his arms to turn her towards him in a gentle embrace. He sighed. _I feel like_ w_e are both…_finally_…home._

Gil had relished these 24 hours alone. He wanted to rest, but his run-ins with Doc continue to replay in his mind. _I want to stay here forever…just us…what if?…what if I were to retire? I have enough contacts, I could work parttime as a consultant, and we would have all the time in the world to just _be _together…just loving each other…just enjoying being…home…_together…

He knew he was being selfish. He had established himself in his career – Sara was just beginning hers. He wondered if she would consider not working anymore. It wasn't that they needed the money.

_I've wasted so much time. She has sacrificed so much of her life waiting for me. I don't want her to give up anymore for me. It is time for _me_ to sacrifice what I want for what will make _her _happy. From now on, it is all about Sara…_

He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, enjoying the feel of having her next to him. He found his eyes closing slowly, anxious to join her in their Better Place, when he found himself drawn to a persistent tapping.

No…knocking.

Someone was at the door. Apparently, they had been there for a while, as their action belied their impatience.

He rose so as not to awaken her and headed for the front door.

_This had better be important._

He was only mildly surprised to see Doc Robbins standing in the now-opened doorway.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, eyes locked and jaws set. Finally, the coroner broke the silence.

"Well?…MAY I come in?", he queried somewhat sarcastically.

Gil's first reaction was to say _no_, but his overriding concern for Sara dictated that he move aside and let the doctor in.

"I assume Sara is with you here, Gil. I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about her. How is she?"

_She's okay, she's happy, she's HOME…_he wanted to shout, but held himself back.

When no reply was immediately forthcoming, he sighed and tried again.

"Gil…really, how is she?"

The unmistakably tender concern carried by that inquiry brought Grissom back to reality.

"She has been sleeping almost nonstop, and having small meals of high calorie nutrition," Gil responded, leading the way to the newly decorated den.

"Wise choice, the small meals…will help her system readjust to the normal diet," the doctor said approvingly.

As they stood in the doorway, Gil took pleasure in seeing the reaction of Doc as he entered their airy retreat.

"This…is…" shaking his head as if to clear it, Doc Robbins' eyebrows shot up as he grinned widely, his amazement evident, "…just what the doctor ordered!"

Pride was swelling within Grissom as most of the previous days' events were set aside.

"Welcome to our home!" he said smugly, offering Doc a seat.

"OUR home?" queried the doctor, wanting to be sure there was no misunderstanding that statement.

"OUR home," Grissom smiled, moving his gaze from Doc to his sleeping love.

"How _has _she been?" asked the doctor, moving over to perform a visual inspection of her bruises which he noted were healing nicely.

Gil thought for a moment. Just as Doc was going to repeat the question, he replied quietly,

"Happy…"

There was more to say, but the words would not come.

Doc laughed quietly as the two-toned blue butterfly continued to circle widely over Sara's head.

"Like something out of a fairy tale…Snow White…" he mused, chuckling softly, as not to wake her.

"Has she taken any pain meds at all?" He needed to get back down to business, but he was being distracted by his enjoyment of the pleasing sight.

"None," Grissom replied, almost proudly. He knew that her happiness with his decision to create a home together was totally responsible for that.

"Al," Grissom continued, "can I offer you something?"

"No, thanks, Gil. I want to wait, if it's okay, until she wakes. I want to check her vitals and inspect that rib area again."

As if on cue, Sara stirred. They watched entranced as she slowly lifted her eyelids. As if on cue, her guardian butterfly once again fluttered into her hand, welcoming her again to her new home.

Al watched as Gil immediately moved towards her. Amazement flooded his being as Doc watched her face the minute Gil was in her sight. He had never seen such a look of adoring love as was on those sleepy eyes.

"Hey, beautiful," Gil cooed softly. "Doc is here to see you."

It saddened the doctor a bit to see the sudden darkness overtake her earlier joy.

"Relax, Sara…you're not going anywhere. He is just worried about you."

Doc felt a bit better at Sara's more relaxed posture as she searched the room, her eyes finally settling on his. "Hi, Doc."

He moved slowly towards her, settling his crutch against the end table before settling himself on the edge of the divan.

"I understand congratulations are in order, young lady, on your beautiful new home."

This comment made her smile widely, as she unexpectedly took his hand.

"Thank you, Doc…that means a lot…coming from you…"

As if the ramifications of someone knowing about their involvement suddenly came crashing down into her conscious mind, Sara whipped her head worriedly in Gil's direction.

As usual, their unspoken thoughts were easily read by the other.

"Relax, honey. I'm sure Doc knows how to keep a secret…until we're ready to tell the world…"

Whether it was the relief of believing Doc would keep a confidence, or the unspoken promise of their really having a tomorrow, Sara relaxed fully into the cushioned comfort and smiled lovingly in his direction.

"Sara, would you let me examine you? Just to put my mind at ease?"

Sara gave Grissom a pained look, but he stood firm, having moved to the front of the divan.   
"I'm right here, my dear."

She shut her eyes. Upon opening them, the mask of indifference had taken residence in her gaze as she looked deep into Doc's eyes. "I'm ready."

He understood that she had rebuilt some of the defenses that had helped her deal with all the hurt from her previous experiences. To maintain her trust, the doctor spoke to her each time he prepared to examine another part of her bruised body.

Doc continued to speak softly as he gently poked and prodded. At one point, he unwillingly brought tears to her eyes at moving her sore ribs a certain way. She had kept them supported while she slept, but his fingers had found the bruising and the pressure was painful.

Gil was at her side in a heartbeat. He glared at the doctor, but gritted his teeth and said nothing so as not to upset her further.

Finally, Doc Robbins spoke in his best authoritative tone.

"Apparently…" he waited until he had garnered Gil's attention off her worried face to continue.

"Apparently, this place is just what the doctor ordered."

Grissom simply closed his eyes for a moment, unnoticed by Sara who was smiling widely.

"Blood pressure is much better, your color is improved, your sleep seems restorative, and your eyes shine – all telling me you are resting and healing."

She smiled at Gil, and squeezed his hand softly. _I love you_ – she said without words.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, speaking aloud, "I love _you_…" much to the shock of both Sara and Doc.

"What?" he asked smugly. " I _DO_!"

At this, Sara laughed happily. It was music to Doc Robbins' ears.

---------------------------------------------------------

Jim Brass pulled his car in front of Grissom's townhouse. He knew his friend had taken a few days vacation, but this was something he didn't think could wait.

_This is going to change everything_, he sighed as he trudged up to Gil's door, knocking loudly.

----------------------------------------------------------

The trio were surprised at the knocking, but only Gil moved to answer the front door.

"Hey, Jim," Gil asked, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry to intrude, but this really couldn't wait," Brass said quickly, already understanding Gil was not alone.

After only a moment's hesitation, Gil stood aside and invited his friend to enter.

Moving into the den, Brass was shocked to see Doc sitting and chatting with a bruised, but happy Sara, lounging on _Grissom's couch?_

Gil laughed at Brass' attempts to appear nonchalant at the obviously perplexing scene.

"Jim, you know Doc Robbins," he said all-too-formally, having some fun at his friend's expense.

"And I don't believe you've met my new housemate, Sara Sidle", he said proudly.

Sara just rolled her eyes before another round of laughter began. "Gil Grissom!"

Gil motioned for Jim to sit, while he resumed his position at her side.

Brass had not been aware of the extent of Sara's bruises, only that she had been injured and was taking a week's sick leave.

_If this is what she looks like days _after_, I wonder how bad she looked _before_…"_

But, as with Doc Robbins before him, Brass was soon overcome by Sara's contagious good humor and laughter.

_I have never seen her so…happy…she loves him…and _finally_, he has pulled his head out of that microscope…if the rest of the team could see them now…_

His thoughts led him back to the real reason for the visit.

"Gil," he said pointedly, receiving a raised eyebrow from his friend, "I need to see you about that important lab paperwork. Is there somewhere…???"

He hoped his tone was casual enough to not alert Sara to the seriousness of the matter. Still zoned into her happy state, she did not seem to notice the glances that were exchanged between Gil and Brass. However, they were not lost on Doc Robbins.

Al was determined to shield Sara from what was obviously a personal matter that eventually would have ramifications for her. He wanted her to enjoy this happy time a bit longer, if he had any say about it.

"You two go ahead," he said as he took Sara's hand in his. "I'll keep Sara company while she shows me the correct technique needed to tame a butterfly."

As he said this, her guardian butterfly reappeared as if on cue, alighting on her open palm.

Gil leaned over to kiss her hair. "I won't be long."

She gave him a light wave, so as not to dislodge her two-winged friend.

Gil closed the door to the den before wielding around to face Brass.

"I'm on vacation this week, Jim. This had better be good."

Brass sighed. "Good? I'm afraid it's anything _but _good."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, they were alone again in their den retreat. Gil had been preoccupied since Brass left and Sara had noticed the change.

_Perhaps Brass reminded him that this is not such a good idea. _

_Perhaps he has changed his mind and doesn't know how to tell me._

_Perhaps this really _was _too good to be true._

Sara suddenly felt the need to flee.

She tried to unwrap herself from his embrace, but he held onto her tighter leaning over her as if he understood her attempt to leave him.

"Sara?"

She wouldn't look at him.

"Sara? What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?"

This was her downfall. She lay back, her movements stilled. He patiently waited for her reply.

After composing herself, she turned to stare deep into his eyes. It was as if his soul was laid bare before her.

_He loves me._

_He doesn't want me to leave._

_What is wrong, then?_

But instead of asking him, Sara simply replied to his query,

"You. You, Gil Grissom. You are all I need."

He embraced her, closing his eyes against the pain he knew would attack her when she learned about the shakeup in the lab. _But that is for another time…now is the time to simply love her…"_

She pulled back and continued to stare into his eyes.

_There is something there._

_He'll tell me when he's ready._

_I love him so much._

"Please, Gil…" she began, but he silenced her with a gentle kiss.

"Sara," he began. _Good, he's going to tell me what's bothering him._

"You know," he hesitated, not sure how to bring up the subject.

"You know, when we were in our beachside retreat, I made love to you in the thicket."

She sighed. "I remember. I was there."

They both laughed.

"But," he hesitated again.

Please, Gil, don't say it was a mistake… 

"But…Sara…we have never…uh…well, I mean…here, in our bed…we…uh…" he stammered.

She locked her arms slowly around his neck, playing with his curls as she pulled him closer.

"Love me, Gil. Please…love me."

So with the string quartet performing softly, the soft breeze from the overhead fans providing a gentle movement of the silky window coverings, and the butterflies happily gliding overhead, Gil and Sara christened their new home in a perfect expression of the depth of their mutual love.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for your reviews. Your support really encourages me to write. I know I keep telling you that I will only update on the weekends, but this chapter almost composed itself while I was driving home today. (Those two just WILL NOT stop their whispering in my ear!) : ) I hope you will continue to review. I am realizing this story will go a bit longer than the first one. (When you finish this chapter, you may begin to figure out why.) -Kathy

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Grissom stood in the middle of his office. He couldn't help but mull over the drastic changes in his life since the last time he had stood here.

He missed Sara.

They had spent the last week together enjoying every moment of Sara's convalescence. Day and night they were just _happy_ together, whether in his townhouse while talking and cuddling in the den, or in their Better Place while cherishing the time in their undisturbed getaway.

He had never been so happy.

Now he was here, faced with the stark artifacts of what had comprised his former life.

What _had_ he been thinking? Life, without Sara, had not been _living_ at all.

He felt emotionally overwhelmed now, as when you are faced with revisiting the scene of a horrific memory.

He wanted to flee. He wanted to turn around and kick the dust of this existence off his heels.

He wanted to go home.

He missed Sara.

Yesterday, he had wiped her tears after Doc had gone. Try as she might, she could not get the doctor to agree to reinstate her to active duty. No amount of cajoling would change his mind: that rib needed to heal and she needed to rest it a few more days.

This afternoon, he had awakened her gently, selfishly wanting to spend the end of his personal leave wrapped in each other's arms.

They had talked a bit about their future. The conversation was crazy at times, as they pursued the 'If you could have any wish granted, what would you wish for' scenarios concerning where to live, where to vacation, where to seek out what was personally relevant to each of them.

And their answers always revolved around each other.

In truth, he didn't care to work anymore. What had been the sole focus of his professional expertise had disintegrated in the last seven days.

He had almost lost her. That reality had changed the view of his life forever.

He had gotten a second chance.

He was going to make the best of every moment of it.

But as always happens, the realities of life often get in the way of our dreams. Today would be no exception.

Sara had put on a brave front as Gil prepared for work. Able to move around more easily, she had given him time to dress for work while she searched for what would entertain her until he returned.

She would read for a while, listen to music, and perhaps watch a DVD. Despite his protests, she insisted on waiting up for him before going to sleep, so they could nestle together and ensure her sleeping soundly.

Sara marveled that in the past five days she had not had a nightmare and had slept soundly without medication. She understood the reason: he had been there, every minute, watching over her, guarding her while she slept. She had felt …safe.

She had felt _loved_, for the first time in her life.

She finally had a _home_…a real home…with sharing and caring…and selfless giving.

It was only as he dallied at the door, pulling her into his embrace one final time before leaving, that a few recalcitrant tears made their way past her defenses.

And they had been his undoing.

He was hugging her to himself, already having opened his cell phone. She squirmed to raise her hand to prevent the speed-dialed number from ringing through. She snapped the cell phone closed as she smiled bravely into his own watery gaze.

"I love you. I am going to be _fine._ I _love_ you. GO!, already!", she said a little too cheerily.

He demurred, but she was insistent.

"The sooner you go, the sooner you can _come back…_ to _me_," she said, choking a little at the emotions that rose inside her in being able to say those words.

The sentiment was not lost on him.

"That's it!" he said determinedly, "I'm not going _anywhere_!"

She began to argue again.

He was standing firm. "I'm _not_ leaving you _alone_ again!"

She laughed as he tried to pry her out of his arms so he could remove his coat. Sara was ensuring he could not shrug his arm out of his sleeve, insisting that he was "going to _work_, mister!"

They mock-struggled, he argued, she stood her ground, and this scene continued until they both broke off their efforts, giggling and embracing happily.

"I love you," he said, smiling into her bright eyes. "I suggest a compromise," he continued as he held her so close she could feel his heart racing.

And so it was that he stood in the middle of his office.

They had agreed he would work half-shifts until Sara could return to work without restrictions.

It had sounded good on paper. But as he stood here alone in his dimly lit office…

He missed Sara.

So deep in thought was he that the faint rap on the open door behind him did not attract his attention.

Sofia stood there admiring him standing in the shadows of his office. _What a handsome man_.

She coughed lightly as she knocked again.

He whirled around, a bit nonplussed at being caught so deep in thought.

"Sofia," he started, but failed to continue.

She moved forward while taking charge of the conversation. "Gris-som", she purred before pulling herself upright and inhaling deeply. "Good to see you back in action. Nice vacation?" she flirted.

Her comment led him to remembering what was indeed the best week of his life. Noticing he had slipped away again into his thoughts, Sofia again tried to steer him back into paying attention to her.

"I can't be _that_ boring, can I, Gil?" she cooed.

He was so intent on clearing his head that he missed the obvious overtones of her calling him impishly by his first name.

Before he could reply, there was another voice added to the conversation.

"Grissom. Good to see you back."

Gil was surprised to see the Sheriff flanking his open doorway.

_That man rarely stepped foot this far inside the lab, and when he did – _Gil sighed_ – it was never good_.

"Glad to see you here also, Sofia. Saves me tracking you down. Grissom," he addressed him pointedly after ungluing his eyes from Sofia's form, "I've decided a meeting of all the lead staff is in order. It will probably by lengthy, so I've already secured your coverage for tonight's shift."

"Ah," started Grissom as he stared down his formidable superior. "Well, Sheriff, that may present a problem. You see, I only planned on working half-shifts this week. So…"

The Sheriff was undaunted. "So?"

Grissom's brows furrowed. "So…this meeting…"

"Is important, is scheduled, and takes precedence over whatever business you have scheduled." replied the Sheriff curtly.

Grissom was beginning to get angry, but took a calming breath before beginning.

"There is an appointment I have made…"

"I understand, Grissom."

Gil relaxed.

"Take a few minutes to get your affairs rescheduled and meet me in my office on the hour."

And with that the Sheriff turned and strutted towards Ecklie's office.

Sofia glanced at Grissom, moved a bit closer, and placed her hand softly over the clenched muscles of his fisted hand.

"I know how you feel, Grissom, really. This whole department restructuring is overwhelming to me, too."

Grissom bristled at the words. He had not informed Sara of the changes yet. In all honesty, he didn't know how to tell her that Sofia had uncovered the evidence Sara had missed, and how that event had snowballed into the Sheriff's new edict.

He felt terrible that he was the one who had assigned Sofia to the task so he could be with Sara when she needed him.

His worry was clear: Would she blame him for aiding Sofia in securing this promotion? Would she believe him, especially after the hurtful gossip following their dinner fiasco?

He sighed softly. Sofia took that as an indication that her soothing efforts were being appreciated. She smiled softly and cleared her throat.

"So…" she said as if she had just solved the world's worst dilemma, "are we ready to get this meeting over with?"

The _we_ went right over his head, as he thought again of Sara looking out the window for his car to pull into the driveway.

"Uh…no…I…uh…have a few calls to make. I…I…I'll see you there…..Sofia…." he stammered absently as he moved to close his door.

Sofia's hair whipped softly over her shoulder as she turned to strut her stuff out the door. "See you in a little bit, then."

She gave him her bounciest departure through the lab hallway. _What an adorably yummy man!_

Sofia would have been disappointed if she could have known that Gil had not noticed her bouncy exit, having already turned his back and flipped open his cell before she even cleared the mahogany door frame.

"Robbins."

"Al…" Grissom said, wondering how to ask his friend for help. The earlier conflicts over Sara's condition were long forgotten in their mutual desire to speed her healing and help her return to emotional and physical health. They both had silently agreed that their behavior had been hindering that goal.

In truth, when they calmed down, they realized they shared a great affection for this woman. Although expressed through different outlets, both men would sacrifice for her happiness.

"Gil! What's wrong with Sara?" Doc Robbins rasped into his tightly grasped receiver.

"No…Al…no…uh…Sara's fine. It's just that I was only going to work a half-shift this week, to be there with her so she wouldn't have to be alone that long, and the Sheriff called this powwow and I can't get out of it, and I don't know how to tell her that I ….hell…I just want to go home, I'm sorry I even came in tonight..." Gil rambled at breakneck speed.

"Gil!...Gil!...GRIS-SOM!" the coroner responded, finally getting Gil to stop speaking and calm down.

"Gil, calm down. It'll be okay. Listen, I am going to take an early lunch break. I will head over to your place and have something to eat with Sara. I'll call Brass on my way. Maybe he can visit with her later. Just relax. Nothing lasts forever."

The ill-chosen words did nothing to ease Gil's discomfort. _Nothing lasts forever._ He sighed. _Am I running out of time?_

Focusing on getting through the shift, Gil was grateful for the suggested plan. But nothing could fully relieve his heartache.

He missed Sara.

_He_ wanted to be the one to share a meal with her, hear her laugh, see her smile…

_That smile_. The thought of it had him grinning unashamedly from ear to ear.

He'd go to this meeting. When it was done, he'd use this opportunity to speak privately to the Sheriff, to convey the need for him to slow down a bit and get control back over his life.

Filled with renewed purpose, Gil Grissom strode down the hallway toward the Sheriff's office suite.

--------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to Grissom, there was a new face sitting in the Sheriff's office.

After the Sheriff's private session with Sofia, she had recommended an old colleague from California as a reliable addition to the new configuration of the lab.

The Sheriff had taken her suggestion to heart, personally contacting the out-of-state lab director, recruiting and securing an agreement with the CSI to begin work within the week.

Now, perched on the edge of the Sheriff's desk, the strapping figure looked more like a tennis pro than a crime scene investigator.

His trim, well-manicured figure made a startling first impression. This truth was evidenced by the large amount of intercom chatter as he had waltzed through the main doors and headed towards the Sheriff's office – turning heads and shifting bodies as if he were a magnetic black hole.

Sofia wanted to shriek wildly and jump into his arms as she noticed him upon entering. Instead, she smiled broadly and grasped his hand with both of hers excitedly, breathing out, "Andrew! Oh, I'm so happy to see you again." _I'm sure I can show you how much later._

"Sofia, dear Sofia!" Andrew returned, not too formally. "Great to see you too!" _My place later?_

Grissom arrived a moment later, curious as to the newcomer and the significance of his inclusion in their meeting.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: The reviewers for this story are the best! You are SO appreciated, I wish I had time right now to respond to all of you. But as I mentioned before, with time limited, I would for now like to concentrate on the writing. Hope you will continue to enjoy this story. It certainly has become a labor of love for me, hence tonight's update. Not sure about the next post date, but I promise it will not be too long of a wait. Thanks for your continued support! -Kathy

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The lights in the driveway made her heart leap. _He was able to get away early!_

Watching the figure approaching from the walkway made her heart droop. _He isn't coming..._

Suppressing a sigh, Sara pasted a smile on her face as she moved slowly towards the foyer. Opening the door, she greeted Doc warmly.

He noticed the forced nature of her smiling demeanor, but said nothing. _She's hiding her feelings again, _he sighed inwardly.

"Sara," he began, but she cut him off.

"It's okay… really… I understand how the lab can get…" she forced another smile as she turned to escort him to the dining room table. She sat down a bit heavily and Doc could see she had not been sleeping for a while. _Had she eaten anything since he left for the lab? She looks…weary._

"Gil asked me to check on you…I guess you know now that he isn't able to get away as he planned," Al said smoothly, his gaze taking in her full body's reaction to his pronouncement.

"Ecklie?" Sara inquired, trying to maintain her air of composure while she started to feel the ebb of the adrenaline rush due to her false alarm about Gil's arrival

"Oh, _much_ better…Sheriff," Doc replied and they both enjoyed a mutual rolling of the eyes before sharing a mirthless laugh. "Some big powwow, probably about the department's restructuring."

As everyone at the lab had been privy to the information about Sofia's new title and the new hire, Al just assumed that Gil had informed Sara about the details of the press conference and the resolution of the McMillan case.

Sara Sidle was an excellent interrogator. She had proven methods to elicit testimony from a suspect without them even knowing that she was setting them up to reveal more information than they anticipated.

She had the expertise to identify the smallest bit of conversation that would become the floodgate to the entire detailed confession.

Observers would conclude Doc Robbins was defenseless against a determined Sara Sidle.

She smiled sweetly as he opened the small white containers of vegetarian Chinese dishes he had brought for their "lunch". Night shift had their own timetable concerning meals.

Sara steered the conversation away from his original disclosure, making it seem as if it was "old news". Internally, she was screaming for details, but she was patient. She could wait him out.

She commented on the food, but did little more than fork-dance the vegetables around her plate. She was expert at making it look like she had consumed a good amount of nutrition without having eaten very much at all. Doc was so involved in conversation he failed to notice.

Eventually, Sara had led Doc to disclose most of the main ideas of the new regime that had crossed his desk: there would be reassignments of some CSI's to a new sublevel in the department; there would be a new CSI recruited solely to oversee evidence in the field before and after it came into the lab; and there was a new position recently created and filled from within the ranks.

"Yes, that press conference was quite the show, from what I understand," Doc offered, sipping his ginger tea with gusto.

"Yes…sorry I missed it…" said Sara, distractedly.

Doc assumed she was just ruminating over the ramifications to her own position. His next statements were meant to reassure her.

They failed miserably.

"Listen, Sara, don't worry. Gil has your back. He still is graveyard supervisor. Sofia will still have to report to him."

Sofia.

Sara felt as if she had been sucker punched.

"Sara?" Doc said worriedly, noting her skin tone becoming paler.

Sara smiled weakly.

"I'm fine. Just suddenly very tired, think I sat up too long tonight. Remember those naps you suggested I take frequently? Suddenly, I just feel like I could use one right about now."

Taking her at her word, the doctor seemed pleased that she was really trying to follow his advice.

"Let me help you…" he began, but she raised her hands palms out in protest.

"I can handle it, Doc…if you could just see yourself out."

With a small squeeze of his hands to thank him for dinner, Sara retreated to the den.

She lay back against the softness of the divan, arms clenched over her rib cage.

She was hurting.

But the pain was too far inside to rub it away.

_He lied to me. No…not lied. He…why he didn't tell me? He couldn't come home…because he is working with Sofia?_

_Ugh…anyone but Sofia. _

_And now, Sofia was in charge of what, exactly? _

"_She will still have to report to him." That's what Doc said. Great. Just great._

_Sara in the field. Sara stuck in the lab under a grimy car. Sara knee deep in decomp. _

_And all the while, beautiful Sofia sitting pert and pretty in Grissom's office._

While the rational side of her mind was bombarded from images sent from the opposite quadrant, she remembered that day.

Turning the corner and seeing them sitting close at his workstation.

Engaged in conversation.

He was smiling. He never smiles when he is engrossed in a case.

But he _was_ smiling at _her_.

And she was smiling right back. And shaking her gorgeous head. And those blonde locks were cascading over her well-toned shoulders…

That scene had made Sara stop dead in her tracks. She remembered that she couldn't breathe. She remembered…

Suddenly, Sara was drawn out of her mental hell by the smallest movement on her now-opened palm.

The tiny two-toned butterfly was perched softly, opening and closing slowly in greeting.

Sara brought the tiny friend up to more closely examine it. She imagined it staring into her soul.

It offered comfort, seeming to remind her that Gil had arranged for it to be here, arranged –_by himself_- for _all_ of this to be here especially for her, _his Sara_, because _he_ was committed to _her_…her, _alone_…

Nothing seemed clear anymore. Her thoughts were muddled and her heart was hurting.

The tears streamed softly as Sara fell into a fitful sleep.

Within minutes the butterfly had sought a nearby pillow edge as refuge from Sara's murmurs and stilted movements.

She was in the throes of a horrific nightmare.

And she was alone.

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"So…seven years of pulling doubles and triples, of amassing outrageous amounts of unused sick leave and vacation days, of maxing out on overtime each month…her dedication amounts to being relegated to a _demotion_ as …as…"

Gil's temper made him stammer as his speech increased in volume.

The full disclosure of Sara and Greg's new positions was not sitting well with Gil.

His anger was not just directed at the Sheriff, or that smug ass Ecklie. There was also the matter of his own hand in the mess.

Why didn't he just let Sofia work on a cold case with Nick or Warrick?

Sara was going to be so hurt…_she'll blame me…will she understand?_..._will she leave me?...I couldn't bear it…_

The Sheriff's authoritative voice brought him out of his heavy reflection.

"Sorry, Gil, but in reviewing both personnel files, I am confident that Conrad's ideas about restructuring just make sense."

Gil had all he could do to not _bolt _out of his chair and take that taunting smirk right off Ecklie's fat face.

_You bastard! You just couldn't wait for my back to be turned to get back at Sara because she has your number…or maybe because she wouldn't give you the time of day???_

In the early days of her hire, Gil had suppressed his desire to get more information from the gossip line around the lab. There had always been an undercurrent describing Ecklie's most unprofessional interest in paying supervisory visits to Sara in the lab.

The rumors and the visits had stopped abruptly, and for a time after that Ecklie kept his distance from her. Gil's brow furrowed as he tried to remember what Sara's response had _been_. There was something…he just couldn't remember.

The Sheriff, taking Gil's silence for acquiescence, continued on a new topic. "Now as for Andrew here…"

Ecklie was intrigued. He had not known of the plan to bring Andrew to Vegas. Actually, he had no idea why Andrew was here. But he was certainly not going to make that known to Grissom.

"In talking with Sofia," he turned and smiled in her direction, their eyes meeting briefly before she demurely cast them down to her polished fingernails, "I felt an intermediate evidence supervisor could aid the processing and dissemination of critical case information. Perhaps speed up the time interval between arrival and dispatch, so to speak."

As angry as Grissom was at being completely left out of a reorganization plan that so heavily impacted his team, he could not argue with the benefits of having such a new link to the processing of evidence.

He actually remembered voicing such an idea on several occasions to various coworkers, including a lengthy conversation with Sofia the last time they had worked together in his office, pouring over lab reports.

Grissom recalled the day: They sat side by side as the evidence binder was in shambles from too many hands-on encounters throughout the lab. As he explained his idea about having one central figure to coordinate nothing but overseeing the creation and management of case evidence files, he remembered how he had gotten excited and very animated.

As Sofia had seemed so intent on what he was saying, her body language presenting him with positive feedback for his idea, he had found himself grinning at the prospect of actually _verbalizing_ his idea, working out the kinks as he went along.

Gil had been using Sofia as a sounding board to bounce off his comments, formulating them into a concrete plan. He even remembered telling her he was going to approach the Sheriff about it one day. But budget crunches and constraints forced him to delay that meeting.

Gil was happy the Sheriff had been thinking along those same lines himself.

And now it was a reality.

Gil raised one eyebrow as he thought about the way some things just seem to work out.

Before he could zone back into the Sheriff's remarks, he was shaken by the disturbing ring of his cell.

The Sheriff winced and glared, Ecklie sighed and tapped his fingers, but Grissom was unmoved by their reaction.

Glancing at the display reading MORGUE, Gil stood quickly and simply stated, "I need to take this…" as he walked out of the room.

As he left, he did not observe the Sheriff's eyes narrowing, Ecklie's head shaking disapprovingly, Sofia's inquisitive stare, or Andrew's amused reaction to the entire scene.

"Al..." Gil began, a bit breathless, as he waited for news about Sara. "How's Sara?"

"She seemed tired when I left. But that's to be expected. She was going to rest for a while. I think a good sleep would be just what the doctor ordered."

Gil was silent for a moment. _She had not slept alone in almost a week. In all that time, the nightmares had not returned. But now, she was alone_….

"I…I…I…I'll call you back," Gil reacted and slammed the lid, ending the call.

Immediately, he found himself moving towards the main entrance of the lab, heading towards his Denali. As he picked up the pace, he dialed Sara's phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

He then tried the house, jumping in behind the wheel, fastening his belt while placing the cell in the dashboard holder. The sound of continuous ringing filled the cab as he zoomed out of the parking lot for the ten-minute ride to the townhouse. He hung up and called again, but the answering machine picked up again.

He was anxious.

He was worried.

_Sara, please be alright. I'm coming, honey. Please…be alright._

_---------------------------------------------------------_

As he braked heavily in the driveway, the townhouse seemed quiet. The calm sent a shiver through him.

_She must be sleeping_, Gil spoke out loud, trying to calm the tempest rising in his chest.

He raced through to the den and stopped abruptly in the doorway.

A lone butterfly circled and then landed softly onto the pile of discarded covers tossed haphazardly onto the side of the now-empty divan.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: If you aren't in the mood for yet _another_ cliffhanger, then you can wait until the next chapter. Thanks to all the many people who left such kind reviews. When I found that over 100 reviews had been left, I was overwhelmed. This chapter is much shorter, as we are in the midst of a severe thunderstorm in the next county and the worry for a power outage has me typing frantically. But these images keep bombarding me and I blame two whisperers in my ear. This chapter sets up the action for the following few chapters. I hope you will continue to give me your honest opinions, as they help to shape this evolving tale. You continue to be great! –Kathy

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He was desperate.

His heart was racing as he tore through the other rooms of the townhouse, screaming her name. The heart wrenching sound reverberated off the walls of the empty rooms, casting a surreal quality to his search.

Blood surged through his system, the pounding in his ears the only sound enveloping him.

Anxiety building, he plopped onto the main room sofa. The pulsing in his temples signaling the start of a tension-induced migraine, the pain in his head was no match for the pain in his heart.

Swiping an unsteady hand through his graying curls, Grissom snapped open his phone. Painfully attempting to focus on the numbers to speed dial, he was almost tearful at the sound of the familiar voice apparently housed in a crowded room.

"Hey, buddy! We've been lookin' for you. Where are you hiding?"

Gil wanted to speak, to relate his desperation, but he found himself so mired in his despair over her disappearance that no words formed on his lips.

"Hey! Still there, buddy?" joked a jovial Brass.

"Jim…" was all Gil could utter.

The tone was not lost on Brass.

"Gil," was his next statement, surrounded by the background sounds of a door being slammed and the surrounding noise swiftly being muted. His tone had turned serious. "Gil…what…"

"Sara…" was all Gil could say.

"Grissom…talk to me buddy…you okay?…where are you now?" Gil could hear Brass punching codes furiously into his secondary response unit.

"Sara…she's…gone…I……" Gil faintly began again, the migraine painfully robbing him of the ability to continue. He stretched out on the couch for a moment, only to have his anxiety propel him upright to begin an agonizing pacing around the apartment.

"Gil…Gil..slow down, buddy. Sara's safe. She's with me," Brass consoled his worried friend. He had seen Grissom worried before, but never _this_ distracted.

"Calm down, Gil. Where are you now, buddy?" Brass started again slowly, hoping to return his friend to a more coherent state.

"With you?..." Gil spoke as he lowered himself back down to the sofa. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to return to its normal boundaries within his weary chest.

"Yeah. Al called me earlier to check on her. I rang the bell, but it took forever for her to answer. I was just letting myself in with the passkey when she came out of the den.

She wanted to see you, actually seemed a bit desperate. At the time I didn't think much of it. I knew you were in a meeting with the Sheriff, and I figured we'd catch up with you here at the lab..."

When no immediate response was forthcoming, worry again settled over Brass.

"Gil, where are you now? Let me come pick you up."

Before the phone call was abruptly dropped, the detective distinctly heard the sound of a front door being slammed followed by the sounds of swift footfalls on a concrete walk.

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In the lab, Sara was making her way to the morgue. She just wanted to see Doc. She couldn't find Grissom anywhere. Maybe he was with Doc.

Doc would help her find him.

Her calm outward demeanor did not reveal the pulsating fear that still enveloped her.

The nightmare had been vivid. She had been in this hell before.

_She was being held against her will. _

_Her hands were strapped down and her feet were spread uncomfortably far apart, secured at the ankles. _

_A cacophony of noise made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening around her._

_She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound._

_Someone was touching her and she strained against the restraints._

_Then she saw it, the hypodermic needle being prepped against the wind..._

_She was pleading with her eyes, begging someone to help her._

_Then she saw him. Grissom. He would save her._

_She felt herself calling out to him, but he looked her directly in the eye and gave her a sad smile._

_Then he turned and walked away._

_She was screaming his name, pleading with him, begging him…"Griss! Please! Help me!"_

The knock on the door had jarred her out of her nightmare, but she found herself unable to move. Hearing the key in the lock, she prayed it was him, and she scrambled off the divan towards his comfort.

Seeing Brass stepping into the foyer, she had searched deep down and stopped herself from flinging her trembling frame into his secure embrace.

One look into her eyes, and he brought the embrace to her.

Silently, he held her until the shaking subsided. She pulled back and looked at him sheepishly, but he was having none of it.

"Hey, kiddo…what can I do for you, huh? What can I get you?" he soothed softly, smoothing her hair from her frightened eyes. _Must have been one hell of a nightmare._

And that is how they found themselves on the way to the lab.

So intent on her destination, her long legs strode determinedly down the corridors at a speedy clip. Sara was ignoring the few stares of the lab techs in their doorway as she turned the corner of the hall leading to the morgue.

She failed to maintain a safe traveling speed – and knocked right into Ecklie.

Conrad was already irritated at Gil's sudden departure. When it became apparent he was not going to return, the Sheriff had decided to postpone the rest of the meeting. Ecklie was furious, as he wanted more details about Andrew and his exact implications for the graveyard shift.

Now, he was angrily clutching this mop of brown hair from his opened mouth, his front teeth tingling from the assault of Sara's head directly into his sneering lips.

"_SIDLE!_" he screamed, grabbing her by the arms and flattening her painfully against the wall. The two techs at the end of the hall turned, thinking for sure he was going to slap her.

Perhaps that idea had crossed Ecklie's mind as well, for he seemed suddenly aware not just of this audience, but of his clenched fists.

"_In my office…NOW!"_ he intoned loudly and bitterly as he grabbed her lithe frame gruffly by her shoulders and spun her in the direction of his hallway.

Still somewhat stunned by their painful encounter, Sara allowed herself to be manhandled by Ecklie as he forced her swiftly down the tiled corridor. Somewhere in the back of her now barely-functioning brain, she recalled a late night movie where the guards had led the condemned prisoner to death row in much the same manner.

The two techs looked at each other. They had been here long enough to know that the real Sara Sidle would have kicked Ecklie's ass before she ever allowed herself to be abused by him in this manner.

With a quick wordless glance, one tech turned swiftly towards Grissom's office where they had last passed Captain Brass, while the other went speedily towards the morgue where Sara had been headed.

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Having left the Sheriff's office, Andrew had worked his way down the lab hallways towards the break room.

Standing inside the glassed enclosure, the distractions of the female technicians suddenly in need of caffeine (while attempting to engage him in flirty conversation) suddenly disappeared from his conscious perimeter. He moved closer to the glass, the chatter around him signaling they had not realized his new preoccupation.

Glancing through the large windows at the hubbub of the busy hallways, he first noticed her.

In the midst of the non-stop activity throughout the lab, that determined stride had captured his attention.

_Those long legs gliding under that perfectly postured body. Where are _you_ off to, princess?_

_No makeup_, he noted. _She's slept very little, those dark circles under her eyes_.

_Her hair was barely combed, hints of unruly curls midst the straightened strands._

_That mouth. Gripped in a thin line, but intriguing nonetheless_.

He wanted to kiss her.

He didn't even know her, but she had him totally captivated.

So unlike all the other women he had dated, who all seemed perfect…_too perfect_.

_Groomed mannequins, all intent on casting _their_ nets to ensnare _him

Oh, he'd enjoyed their games and had no complaints.

Even women like Sofia with whom he'd enjoyed the occasional night of fun and games.

_But _this one_…she was poised, seemingly self-assured, but _different _somehow._

_Those long legs …she's certainly in a hurry…how I'd love to feel those legs wrapped around _me

If you'd asked him, he couldn't explain it. But Andrew knew two important things.

Number one – he _wanted_ her.

Number two – he was used to _getting_ what he wanted.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Your reviews keep me motivated. Thanks for your continued support of the story. Thinking about this chapter had me smiling all day. Hope it puts a small smile on yours. The next update will be a few days off, as we have company this weekend. You remain terrific! –Kathy

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Grissom had driven the maze of side streets in an attempt to return to the lab. No traffic lights, stop signs only. Tonight, they were more like "pause" signs.

He needed to see Sara.

Pulling into the side parking lot of the lab, he cursed upon seeing that there weren't spaces available. Jamming his foot on the gas pedal, he maneuvered the Denali around to the coroner's entrance and expertly guided his vehicle roughly into the ambulance parking area.

He was already at the entrance before fully locking the car using the key fob. Inside the corridor, he halted. Out of breath, he was determined not to engage in behaviors that would cause the migraine to resurface.

He opened the door to the morgue, expecting to see Doc Robbins at work.

The investigator in him immediately sent out mental alarms. Something was wrong.

In front of him was a corpse that evidenced the coroner had begun an autopsy. However, the body lay there haphazardly covered with a white sheet. Grissom deduced that the doctor had left within the last few minutes, as the sheet was only now revealing a deepening blood stain.

He shouted for his friend, but his voice reverberated throughout the stainless steel operating corridor.

_Something caused him to vacate this room hastily. Something is very wrong._

Immediately, his thoughts turned to Sara. _But Brass said that she was here in the lab._

Fear gripped him, causing him to falter a little as he turned towards the exit.

_Please…let her be ok…_

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The door to Ecklie's office flung open forcefully as he continued to angrily steer Sara's body to his lair. He released her shoulders with a stern command, "SIT!", as he swiped at his bruised mouth with one hand and pushed her aching form downwards into his visitor's chair.

Sara was still trying to understand the turn of events that led to this confrontation.

It seemed surreal.

Reality faced her head on as she raised her confused eyes and found herself suddenly sitting in front of…Sofia.

Sara did a double take. There Sofia sat in all her blonde glory, her long-legged form hugging the edge of Ecklie's desk, while she cast a quizzical glance between both Sara and Ecklie.

"Sara? What's…what's going on here?"

_It was a culmination of things. _

_To be sure, the nightmare had caused Sara to become slightly off keel. _

_Literally running into Ecklie had been both physically and emotionally painful._

_She could not have felt more alone, and as if some macabre slide show was suddenly begun, Sara started to take stock of the last year of her life._

_To be sure, she had replayed many of these events randomly in her mind over the last week._

_Yet, this time, the visions were much more cohesive and her guttural response to them had changed._

_Once again, she was faced with instantly choosing between a fight or flight response._

_This time, face to face with the one person besides Ecklie who had made her life a living hell, she realized her detour into surrendering to the pain had only caused her more pain._

_It was time to fight._

"Screw you, Sofia!", Sara intoned sharply, leaning back into the chair. Her posture had changed, and as she tightly hugged the arms of the upholstered seat, Sara crossed her legs and glared defiantly first at Sofia, then Ecklie.

Her body language spoke volumes: _Bring it on!_

Sofia's mouth dropped open as Ecklie swiftly rounded the corner of his desk and placed his face within centimeters of her placid countenance.

"Shut. Up. Sidle." he hissed angrily. Sara placed one of her long fingered hands directly on his large nose and shoved him back yelling, "_Get. Out. Of. My. Face_!"

Her actions caused him to careen backwards unsteadily unable to grip on to something substantial. So he plummeted backwards, arms flailing, until he latched on to the first solid object and tried to stop his momentum.

However, the solid object…_objected_.

"Conrad! Let _go_!..." Sofia screamed as they both hit the carpet, Ecklie unceremoniously atop the startled CSI.

Sara burst into laughter. She hadn't felt this good in a long time.

Her reverie was cut short when she saw the daggers of Ecklie's glare as he turned to move off Sofia and headed straight towards Sara.

Not for the first time since she had known him, she was literally afraid of him.

Conrad stopped within an inch of her chair, locking her grip on the chair with his large hands pressing forcefully on top of hers. His knees were locking hers to the padded seating. She was trapped in her upholstered prison.

Ecklie's thin frame did not adequately hint at the power behind his long bones.

Sara unsuccessfully struggled to free herself, yelling, "_Get. Off. Me_." The fresh bruises on her back and upper arms were beginning to hurt, and his position was causing her older bruises to throb painfully.

He refused to relent and held her against her will. There was a look of satisfaction in his eyes that unnerved her. She continued her struggle in vain, as he pulled closer to her face.

"If you don't get off me, I'll _kill_ you….I _swear_ it…I am _tired _of your shit, Ecklie…I am _not_ going to take it anymore…I'll go to the _Sheriff_…I'll have your _ass_ in court…I'll _kill _you, I _swear_…_Get. Off. Me_.!"

Sara backed away from him, until her back of her neck was pulling painfully on her slightly curly lengths of hair.

He continued to move forward.

His eyes were glazed and he seemed to her to be the embodiment of anger.

Was _this_ how it was to end?

Sofia meanwhile had regained her faculties and was standing to move towards them.

For a moment, Sara felt relieved as surely Ecklie would not do her physical harm in the presence of an audience.

Sofia, however, was not without her own surprises.

"You know, Conrad, I am your witness that she threatened you with bodily harm. I'd go so far as to label it a …what's that buzzword?...oh, yeah…I'd call it a _terroristic threat_. She seems a bit _unstable_, wouldn't you say? Perhaps a psych evaluation might be in order…"

Sofia moved closer to Ecklie who hardly seemed to notice her presence. She ran her hand suggestively down his arm.

"I know you won't want to do anything to harm your case against her…" she said softly.

At this point, Ecklie released his grip and turned towards Sofia. He let out a breath he did not fully realize he had been holding.

Sofia returned to sit on the edge of the desk, and gave Sara a full-faced mocking glare.

Big mistake.

Sara was done being the world's punching bag today.

Before Sofia could fully release her pleasure-filled sigh at the turn of events, Sara had bolted out of her seat and plunged right into Sofia, once again knocking her onto the carpeted flooring, screaming, "I will kill you _too_, Sofia…"

It was at that exact moment that the door to Ecklie's office reopened, with an angry Detective Brass barreling into the room. Outside, undetected, was the lab tech who had made him aware of the earlier troubling events in the hallway.

"_Sara!"_ Brass yelled as he unceremoniously grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off Sofia. All the while, Sara was flailing her arms and legs making her look like one of Grissom's prized spiders on full alert.

"_Calm down!" _he yelled again as Sara was having trouble distinguishing the good guys from the bad. _"Sara!"_

Sara's fully opened eyes were finally beginning to focus as Brass released her only to spin her around to look into his concerned eyes. He breathed a bit easier, speaking softly, "Sara…"

She wanted to cry. She wanted to dissolve in a puddle and sink to the depths of the earth.

She wanted to go home. She wanted Grissom.

But instead she calmed her movements and signaled she was able to stand on her own.

Brass kept one hand on her arm, more in a protective gesture than in concern, and turned to face a red-faced Ecklie pulling a disheveled Sofia to her feet.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" the detective snarled, not letting on that he had been briefed by the lab tech.

Conrad and Sofia both began assaulting the air with their cries, and hate-filled glances at Sara.

Both overtalking, their ragged shrieks had a central theme: menace, psychotic, dangerous, loose cannon…

Throughout this tirade, Sara just stood there looking at them…or really more through them.

She thought about all the pain that she had suffered at the hands of Ecklie. She remembered when she first came to Las Vegas. Ecklie had been _very_ interested in her then…and some things just cannot be taken back…

Sara shuddered at the resurfacing of the memory of that night which she had buried for all these years.

_What doesn't kill you makes you strong, _she had told herself then.

_It's all about choices…and I wonder if I had made a bad one back then…_she asked herself now.

She was so lost in thought that she was oblivious to the confrontation in front of her. So it should come as no surprise that she was also unaware of the scene occurring behind her.

For while she was deep in thought, the door to Ecklie's office flew open a second time in three minutes, admitting a very out-of-breath, very red-faced, extremely angry coroner still robed in autopsy scrubs that were splattered with victim's blood.

"_What in the HELL is happening here, CONRAD?"_ boomed a very loud and _very_ irritated Doc Robbins.

The room fell silent for the span of a heartbeat, before everyone in the room except Sara was vying to be heard over the din.

The coroner was in Ecklie's face now, calling him some pretty unmentionable things, those sentiments were being returned vehemently by a bloody Ecklie, while Brass was shouting at Sofia to calm down and keep her menacing hand gestures away from Sara, which only made Sofia more animated, keeping the two lab techs in the hallway stunned at the scene, unable to move in the same way people converge around the vestiges of a train wreck.

In their continuing bid to make themselves heard, the situation was complete chaos.

However, Sara had become less in tune with the scene unfolding in front of her.

She found herself slipping into a guarded spot deep within, her safe spot, her long-abandoned island sanctuary where no one could find her. In her childhood, she had used this place whenever her parents were abusive to each other, or when her father…

This spot was unlike her Better Place. This was not a place to dream or enjoy peace of mind.

This was a cell of self-preservation.

In the past, it had scared her somewhat to be here. People always did things to her when she was here.

Today it scared her to not be here.

Her eyes focused on mouths moving and bodies encroaching on each other as the noise around her all but subsided. But before she closed the door to her safety net, there was another sound that caused her to pause.

It was outside this sphere of anger, on the periphery of her auditory sense.

It was the sound of footsteps. Determined footsteps.

The gait was far from perfect, but the stride sounded full of energy.

That energy swelled into a supernova of _cosmic_ intensity.

Grissom.

Without garnering the attention of those engaged in this heated battle of words, Sara silently turned and stood there.

Waiting.

Within a breath of a moment, the door burst open for the third time in five minutes.

Gil's eyes looked only for her, and upon making contact with his worried stare, she saw a display of emotions in his eyes that made her tears flow freely.

_Sara. Thank goodness. You're safe. I found you. Don't leave me like that again._

_I love you._

Wordlessly, he was at her side in a heartbeat. They stood face to face for a fraction of a moment, before his hands reached for hers. His eyes quickly surveyed her face and full body, a frown settling on his features as he noticed some changes from the last time he had looked at her.

_Are those _new_ bruises?_

Only when he moved to place his hands on her upper arm, did Ecklie notice Grissom's presence. He snarled, "Grissom! Didn't I _tell _you she was a loose cannon? She's dangerous to herself and to _everybody around her_! And I want her _out of my lab_!"

And Grissom would probably have just taken Sara home if it wasn't for Ecklie's continued rant.

Conrad moved away from Sofia, retrieving an ironed handkerchief from his back pocket to apply pressure to his still bleeding mouth.

"Dammit! The bitch probably broke my tooth! With all this contact with her, I should get an AIDS test!"

The inference as to Sara's presumed promiscuity was not lost on Grissom.

And it was for this reason that Grissom moved forward quietly until he was face to face with Ecklie.

He stared deeply into Ecklie's eyes for a split second before decking him right in his glass jaw, sending an unconscious lab director spiraling to the floor in front of his speechless colleagues.

Twice shaking his hand pointedly, Grissom then turned and, without missing a step, swept up Sara in his outstretched arms as he strode through the room and out the exit, heading for home.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thanks for your support of this story. My loyal reviewers are an inspiration to me. This weekend was a whirlwind, but this week is a meeting almost every night. So there will not be an update until next weekend. However, once I got into this chapter, it wound up being so long, I split it in two and am posting both chapters tonight. Could you please review each separately? It really motivates me and helps me shape the story. Hope you like it. You're the best! –Kathy

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"_Did that really just happen?_" an adrenaline-filled Grissom mused, as he carried Sara down the lab's empty corridor. _"I should have stayed to finish the job,"_ he fumed, anger still boiling within him.

"Grissom, put me down,…Grissom, please….GIL!" Sara pleaded, her final cry getting his attention. He slowed as he looked at her, but did not stop their forward momentum.

Sara tried again.

"Gil,…please…your back…your knees…please, baby…"

The sentiment brought him to attention as he slowed and looked at her.

She expected him to stare into her eyes and release her from his protective cocoon.

She did _not_ expect his actual response.

There…in the middle of the lab…where a passerby could emerge at any second…Gil Grissom lowered his head and passionately assaulted her lips in a mind-blowing series of kisses that made Sara glad she was in his arms, for surely she would have melted to the ground as her knees buckled beneath her.

When he finally garnered enough willpower to rein in his powerful need, he lowered his arms and released her, but without breaking contact with her upper arms. She winced, the pain of his hands on her newly formed bruises bringing her back to the moment.

The reaction was not lost on Grissom, who was already pulling up her short sleeves to better assess the injury. His eyes narrowed as the imprints of Ecklie's abusive grip were darkening under his angry glare.

"Gil…really…it's ok…" Sara started, hoping to diffuse the situation unveiling before her.  
_I need to get him away from here, before he does anymore harm to his career because of me_, Sara decided.

But before she could speak, Gil was already fully supporting her by the elbows, forcing her down a different corridor, towards Catherine's office.

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"_Did that really just happen?"_ Brass thought, internally struggling with the intense desire to break into a bunch of guffaws followed by a bout of belly laughs, and his need to maintain his decorum so as to diffuse what he was sure would be Ecklie's retaliatory response mode.

"_Man, when Grissom gets his head out his microscope, he gets it WAY out,"_ Brass continued introspectively, wondering just what was happening between him and Sara. More importantly, he was wondering how he had missed it. After all, he had been cajoling and pleading with Grissom for years to stop playing mind games with Sara, and admit his true feelings.

Sure, he was a bit surprised when Al asked him to check on Sara who was staying at Gil's townhouse. Brass had also been made aware of Sara's accident, and had assumed Gil was playing nurse at Al's insistence. He never dreamed Grissom would allow it to become more than that.

Conscious that no one aside from Sofia had run to Ecklie's aid, Brass sighed and moved to help the disoriented lab director onto his feet and into his desk chair.

The wheels on the high backed leather chair continued to move the furniture piece backwards, causing several attempts to lean the tall figure into its comforts.

Their efforts failed miserably when Brass, assuming that the chair stopped moving because it was braced against the wall, released Ecklie from his grip. Unfortunately for Conrad, the wheels had momentarily snagged on the shag of the rug. When Brass released him, his movement and his body weight caused the wheels to resume their romp, catching Ecklie off guard. Stunned, he found himself once again unceremoniously sprawled on the floor, his head ramming onto the wheel well.

The intense pain made him shut his eyes tightly and cry out in anguish, "SIDLE! That horny bitch! When I get my hands on her, I will finish what I started! That lying bitch! She's going regret…"

Another intense pain caused Ecklie to stop his tirade, as he found himself unable to utter an intelligible sound. His eyes flew open in panic, wondering if he had suddenly become paralyzed – which had always been an unspoken fear since a childhood friend had sustained such a head injury.

His panic deepened, however, as he realized the source of his vocal paralysis was not a head injury, but was due to the hands of one Detective Jim Brass. He had Ecklie's necktie twisted in his hands, effectively cutting off his air supply.

Frightened eyes met angry ones.

"Don't…" began Brass, red-faced and fuming. His usually unflappable manner had been replaced by his deep-seated rage, fueled by his loathing of Ecklie and his protective feelings for Sara.

"JIM!" Al called frantically, hoping to defuse the situation and distract Brass from hurting Ecklie any further. _No matter how much I'd love to join you…._

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"_Did that really just happen?"_ Al muttered, having stood open-mouthed and stunned. "_I warned Grissom not to mess with Sara…to really _be there_ for her…guess he took that warning to heart."_

Al would have smiled, except that the repercussions of Gil's actions began to form a frightening scenario in the coroner's mind.

He sighed. _"Gil…this is going to open a real can of worms…I know you are strong enough to weather the wake of the storm you initiated…I just hope you will stay with Sara when the going gets rough…this was _not_ her fault…damn Ecklie…"_

It was at this point that Doc's musings were distracted by the fact that Brass had grabbed Ecklie by the tie, twisting it, not seeming to realize he was choking the air out of the lab director.

Doc sprung into action, but as Brass slowly released the hold he had on Ecklie, Sofia jumped into the fray. Demanding that Brass release him, Sofia started spouting profanities as she attempted to rip Brass' hands from Ecklie's body.

Upon his release, Sofia attempted to shield Conrad – now laboring for a deep breath – from any more harm from the others in the room.

"She threatened my life…and Conrad's…she attacked us both…Sara Sidle is completely out of control…he could have been seriously hurt by…"

"SOFIA!" bellowed Doc Robbins. All three of the others stopped what they were doing and turned towards the usually mild-mannered physician.

Sofia clamped her mouth closed, Ecklie held his breath with eyes bugging open, and Brass took a step backwards.

"Do. Not. _Ever_. In. My. Presence. Repeat. Sara's. Words. Out. Of. Context….Am I _very_ clear?" Doc's blood pressure was off the scale now. He actually felt lightheaded as he carefully enunciated each segment of his command.

Doc was sure of two truths. Yes, she had probably said those threatening words. But the Sara he had come to know would have said such a thing only as a defense against a threat against her _own _person. Likewise, she may have attacked one or both of them, but only if she felt the need to defend herself.

Two against one. In an office behind closed doors. Her fresh bruising on her head and upper neck had not escaped his notice, making him wonder what other bruises lay under her clothing. More importantly, he wondered what could possibly have transpired that caused Sara to be in the middle of this tempest.

Eyes rebuking both Sofia and Ecklie, he continued, "File your report. And I will file mine. And we'll see where the evidence takes us." Turning deftly on one crutch, he stormed through the office door, leaving it banging against the doorstop under the force of his powerful movement.

Appearing in the hallway, he observed the two lab techs still frozen in their position lurking just outside the door.

"YOU TWO! MORGUE! NOW!"

--------------------------------------------------

Sara was savoring the feel of his back protectively housing her slightly leaning body. She felt safe in his quasi-embrace, his hands still cradling both her elbows as he steered her down the hallway.

Noticing they were getting closer to Catherine's office, Sara tried to brake her forward movement and turn towards him. Grissom allowed neither effort as he silently forced her towards Catherine's doorway.

Instead of knocking, he removed his hand from contact with her only long enough to thrust the door forward and move them both into the safety of Catherine's office.

She was slightly jarred by the sudden opening of her door, yet her phone conversation continued. "_Really_?...thanks, look I have to go. Bye."

Catherine looked almost gleefully into Grissom's eyes. She was all set to comment on the latest lab gossip when she caught his eyes.

The smile left her face faded and she immediately stood and moved towards him. Though two people had moved through her door, even in this moment, she had not really looked at Sara, her gaze focused solely on Grissom.

She had heard about Sara going off …_again_…only this time she picked on Ecklie. _Sara picked on the wrong guy_, Catherine had been thinking before they arrived while listening to the varied aspects of the event being spun into a new creation through the office gossip line.

Now, faced with a silent Grissom, Catherine bounced her gaze from his intensity towards Sara – and gasped.

She was covered with bruising, new and old. The newest bruises were still melding into a sickly purple, and her skin above her elbow – _was that a hand print_?

Swiftly, Catherine took Sara's hands in hers causing Sara to look up from her embarrassed posture.

"Sara…honey…please, sit down…sit down, honey…oh, Sara…what in the world…?" Catherine fumbled for the correct words to bring comfort to Sara.

"Catherine," Gil replied in his supervisor's tone. "Catherine, Sara has been attacked. I need you to do a complete workup. Photos, fingernails, the works…"

"SAE kit?" Catherine queried, worried about the answer.

Gil's eyebrows knit together in concern, as he moved towards Sara's chair.

_I really don't know _what_ happened here. I never even _asked_ her. I swear, if he laid one hand on her…_

His movements were halted as he saw Sara's back stiffen and her eyes shoot daggers toward him. As he stared into her eyes to find the truth, she glared back at him and shook her head fiercely.

"Photos and DNA will be adequate, Catherine."

Catherine's eyes jumped back to Gil and she started to ask the questions most on her mind.

Sara's eyes flew back to Gil, wondering why he had suddenly reverted to his supervisor's posture (_but I need _him_ now, my supportive lover, not my boss…)_

He raised his hands palms out to signal he would not answer any more questions, and that he would not give on this demand for an evidence file to be created.

"Catherine, you can do the workup here in your office. Get the results through the evidence lab _personally_. I want complete documentation on my desk before the end of shift tonight."

He looked hard at Sara for a full moment, but did not utter a word.

_He thinks I did something wrong. _

_He's upset that I came here. _

_He _can't_ believe Ecklie or Sofia…he _couldn't_ betray my trust so easily… _

_I don't want to be "processed". _

_I don't want the world to know what happened here tonight._

_I don't want to risk them digging deeper and finding out about Ecklie…_

_I don't want to. _

_He promised._

Grissom blinked, refusing now to look at Sara, then coughed roughly, flexing his injured hand.

Supervisor Grissom had returned.

"Catherine, when you have finished here, call Brass to take Sara home. Process those photos and get the scrapings to Greg. Tell him to process them _himself_, not Hodges or Wendy. I want all your files on my desk within the hour. _This _is priority, _this_ is your only case."

With that he turned on his heels leaving a stunned Sara speechless.

"And Catherine," Gil admonished from the doorway, "_This_ is also off the record."

With that, he turned and quietly closed the door.

Catherine and Sara sat in stunned silence for a few more seconds before Catherine geared herself into work mode, trying a reassuring smile towards Sara, and began to assemble the camera and materials from her kit.

Sara was in shock.

_He left me._

_He left me here._

_He knows I don't want to do this._

_He broke his promise._

_He doesn't believe me._

_I am alone again._


	17. Chapter 17

---------------------------------------------------------

After collecting the evidence, Catherine rang Brass to collect Sara and take her home. Upon his arrival, Catherine closed her office door to speak privately to him.

"She hasn't spoken a word since Grissom left," Catherine's tone sporting her concern.

"It's been an upsetting day, Cath." Brass wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

Although Jim attempted several times to engage Sara in conversation, she had retreated into her safety zone and was unwilling to speak to him.

Once he had her settled inside, he noticed that she didn't go to the den, but rather slumped into a dining room chair, her back to him.

Of course, that moment his pager would sound, dispatch requiring him to report to scene of a nearby fatality. He was definitely torn between his duty to his badge and his desire to ensure the safety of this woman he had come to deeply care about.

"Sara…" He began softly.

Sara sighed, and to his surprise, turned to face him.

"I'm fine," she said flatly, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection.

Brass nodded at this, and made it to the doorway before turning to look at her one last time.

She looked so young, so tired, and so…powerful. He wondered if she knew how he admired her spunk, her resilience, her courage.

He would not have identified the exact feeling that overcame him just then, but he found himself striding confidently across the distance until he pulled her gently into a fatherly bear hug. He was a bit surprised when she returned the hug, for a moment clinging for dear life, before releasing him with a bit of a smile.

"Hey, kiddo. Sleep. Rest. Take care of my favorite girl." he said warmly with a chuck under her chin for good measure.

A real smile softened her lips.

"That's my girl," Brass beamed, feeling better now about leaving.

Once outside, he flipped open his phone and speed-dialed Grissom before he even made it to his cruiser.

-------------------------------------------------

Grissom sat in his office awaiting Catherine's results. He was sure he had paced a hole in the cement _under_ his office flooring since he had arrived in his office.

He had never been so unnerved in his life.

He had really wanted to hurt Ecklie.

_I could have killed him_, he sighed, still wrestling with the emotions of the encounter._ I still want to._

His only goal from the moment he had scooped Sara off her feet was to get her to a safe place, away from the lab, away from the gossips, away from…Ecklie. FAR away.

_I don't know what happened tonight…but…there seems to be something else…something else here…the picture is just not clear right now._

He had kissed Sara. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, no matter what. He wanted to protect her. At that moment, the flash of awareness had hit him like a ton of bricks.

If they ran away, it would implicate her further as the aggressor, while giving Ecklie time to fabricate an intricate web of lies to try to trap her.

No. He would have to compile an evidence file and take it to the Sheriff tomorrow.

He was sure Ecklie would beat him to it, but Grissom would have an evidence file that would contradict what was sure to become damaging testimony against Sara.

He knew he could trust Catherine to do a thorough workup without the appearance of a coverup.

In her office, however, he found it difficult to speak. He only thought about taking Sara home, holding her, making sure today's events would not lead to further injurious nightmares. Had he even said goodbye to Sara? He had been so preoccupied with what needed to be done, he could almost not recall leaving them there.

Now, the ringing of his cell brought him out of his reverie. Hoping to see Catherine's name on the display, he was immediately concerned that something had happened to Sara as the words BRASS appeared on his screen.

"Jim?" he answered breathlessly.

"Get home soon, will ya, buddy? She shouldn't be alone."

"How is she?"

Brass thought of all the things he could say that would move Grissom into action. He hoped he chose wisely.

"She is missing, no needing, _you_."

Gil closed his eyes for a heartbeat before responding.

"I am on my way."

---------------------------------------------------

In Ecklie's office, Sofia resumed her perch on the edge of the desk, watching a furious Ecklie pace and rant about what had taken place today.

Suddenly, he stood face to face with Sofia and glared into her eyes.

"You will say what happened as she provoked me."

---------------"Yes."

"You will repeat what she said to me, word for word."

---------------"Yes."

"You will testify that you believe she acted insanely."

---------------"Yes."

"You will express your view that, for the good of the lab, she needs a psychiatric evaluation to prevent another unwarranted attack."

--------------"Yes." Sofia crooned, placing her hand flat upon his heaving chest.

With that, Conrad Ecklie raced around his desk, pulling Notice of Suspension paperwork from his side filing drawer.

Absorbed in his vendetta, he could not see Sofia's satisfied smirk as she thought about her plan.

Remove_ – done! Taking credit for her evidence review has worked out very nicely._

Restrain_ – done! Ecklie suspends her for the mandatory two-week period, allowing me plenty of time to make myself invaluable to the lab…_and_ to Grissom._

_Now…to _permanently _replace that little witch…_

_------------------------------------_

Catherine had knocked on Grissom's door, a bit surprised not to find him behind his desk.

_He _did_ ask for the file on his desk before the end of shift, _she sighed resignedly. Catherine was uncomfortable leaving this file, containing intimate photos of Sara's bruised body, on display in the midst of Grissom's busy desktop.

_But…I know better than to not observe the letter of Grissom's law…_, she smiled crookedly and left the file, name down, in the middle of the piles of paperwork.

With that, she turned to leave, glancing over her shoulder to gain some comfort in her decision.

-----------------------------------

Seeing Catherine leaving Grissom's darkened office, Andrew continued to stand just inside the doorway of a darkened worklab. Once she had turned the corner, curiosity got the better of him. While he was still new, he realized most of the lab techs considered him invisible as they poured themselves pointedly into their current tasks.

So it was rather easy for him to simply walk through the door, closing and locking it quickly behind him, before turning on the lights.

He took a minute to absorb the scene before him. Specimens of all types littered the bookshelves and corners of this airy office. He admired the voluminous library, taking in some of the titles and recognizing a few as authoritative sources.

Andrew moved slowly toward his target. _She would have left something important on his desk._

Reaching his goal, Andrew sat fearlessly in Grissom's chair, as if he belonged there. He picked up the file and did not recognize the name on the filing tag. He opened it with a flourish.

A smile spread across his lips.

Though the intimate photos were headless, an odd sort of familiarity overcame Andrew.

His eyes were not focusing on the severe bruising of her lower extremities, but rather on the curvaceous line of her hips and buttocks.

The next photo revealed bruising on her upper arms and shoulders, but Andrew was only focused on the titillating curve leading down to her shapely breast from that long, perfectly formed neck.

The final photo, though, brought the feeling of familiarity home.

Andrew did not see the swelling over the tops of her long legs or the bruising caused by her being thrown against the wall. He saw legs. Long legs.

This dastardly voyeur leaned forward, placing the file on the desk to empty both hands as he began to free his growing erection from the constraints of his tailored slacks.

_Princess…well, well, well._

_---------------------------------------------------_

Grissom pushed the key into the lock while opening the door in one practiced move.

While the lights were on throughout the townhouse, he did not immediately see her, and his heart remembered the last time he had come home - and found her gone.

"Sara!" he called, trying to squelch his fear. "Sara, honey!"

This time, he heard movement coming from the den, and a weary figure appearing in the open doorway.

"Oh, Sara, sweetheart, " Gil whispered, unaware that a single tear had rolled down his cheek, betraying his worry.

Sara stood, confused. _Now_ _I am his "sweetheart"? Now that Catherine isn't around to grope and embarass me? What is his agenda now, I wonder?_

Gil continued his slow movements towards her, as if stalking a precious butterfly in the field, fearing that a sudden move would make her flee.

But Sara stood her ground, neither moving nor acknowledging his movements.

"Are you alright, honey?" Gil asked soothingly.

Now they were face-to-face. He reached out slowly to claim her in his arms. Another tear followed the first.

He choked as he tried to speak comfortingly to her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sara." He held her so she could not look in his eyes.

He knew she would blame him for leaving her to go to work earlier this evening.

_What is he apologizing for? Is he telling me it's _over???_ That he can't do this anymore, even though he _promised

Sara's paranoia where Grissom was concerned always seemed to fester when he spoke to her in that tone.

She knew he would blame her for leaving the house to go to the lab earlier this evening.

Trying to protect her heart, she said nothing.

Trying to protect his heart, he kept talking.

"Catherine will get the evidence together. I plan to take it to the Sheriff myself tomorrow. Ecklie is not going to get away with hurting you, Sara. No one is ever going to hurt you again and go unpunished, I promise you."

Now, it was Sara's turn to be confused…again.

_Wait…he _believes _me?...he _knows_ I did nothing to provoke Ecklie?...he…still _loves_ me???_

Sara's confusion spurred her continued silence. Gil's apprehension about not being there to protect her spurred _him _to continue to hold her in a tight embrace, wanting to shield her from any additional pain.

Finally, he spoke. Again his question caused her to knit her eyebrows in confusion.

"Sara…did you…uh…did you leave the door to the den wide open?"

As he released her from his loving grip, she looked at him but he was not gazing down at her. Instead, she followed his eyes to the point of his fascination.

There, sitting on the counter, was almost a dozen butterflies lined up neatly, just observing them.

Sara grinned, then smiled widely.

"It's good to see you smile, Sara," Gil said aloud before grabbing her gently and pulling her into a kiss that deepened after a heartbeat.

His sudden movement caused the butterflies to wing their way out of the kitchen, hovering over the doorway, as if to beckon them to return to their happy space.

Releasing her, they both grinned and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

Suddenly solemn, Gil whispered, "Sara…please…let me make love to you."

Sara moved away from him, not breaking his gaze, her face expressionless. Shaking her head softly, she replied,

"No, Gil."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Okay, I just want you to know that my wonderful reviewers made me so guilty about their having to wait a week for an update, that I got up much earlier than usual to start this next, shorter chapter and came home after work to finish it. My family was having leftovers for supper so I can head out to the first of this week's evening meetings. Pressed for time, I will just say 1) that the next update will be when it will be, but no later than this coming Sunday, 2) I posted this mostly for my fabulous reviewers who really hate cliffhangers, and 3) I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing the conclusion to the ending scene of chapter 17. Here you go, then - it made me smile... : ) -Kathy

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_No?_

He felt as if someone had sucker-punched him.

All Grissom could do was open his mouth, and then close it again. He was painfully aware that he was unable to utter a sound. His heart was pounding with his worried thoughts.

_She doesn't trust me? No, worse. She's _afraid _of me! I hit Ecklie, right in front of her, and now she is afraid of me. _

Unable to move, his mind was reeling with his pleading thoughts.

_I would _never _hurt you, Sara! Please, honey, don't do this! Don't push me away! I_ need_ you! I _love_ you!_

His internal discourse lasted a breath of a second. Before he could try asking her, begging her, again, Sara spoke softly – her eyes capturing his, her words aimed directly at his heart.

"No, baby." She moved a step closer with each word.

"No…my wonderful…protective…knight…in shining…armor." She now stood directly in front of him.

"Please…" she moved her hands to either side of his worried face, causing him to close his eyes against the promise of her gentle touch.

"…let _me_ love _you…_" she whispered with a catch in her voice, as she leaned in to leave her invitation directly into his ear.

Her warm breath on his earlobe, the gentle pressure of her lithe form against the front of his trembling body, her words…those heavenly words…invading the darkness of the previous moment – shattering his worry into disappearing shards of hopelessness… all these left him instantly transformed into a new man…a man in total surrender, even more deeply in love with Sara Sidle.

As she began to pepper him with angel soft kisses over his ear, down his neck, and over his closed eyes and furrowed brows, Gil found himself in ecstatic disbelief.

He was willing, no – found himself _needing_ - to let her take the lead on this one.

In his whole life, his romantic trysts could be counted on both hands, with some to spare.

After being intimate with Sara the first time, he realized he had never _made love_ with anyone before.

But _no one_ had ever wanted to make love _to_ him before.

There are some things in this world that you accept as truth, yet a part of you holds back, standing on the edge of _truly_ believing.

Here in this tiny frozen moment of time, it was as if Sara had reached down and touched the lonely child buried within him. She was, in this one romantic gesture, providing once and for all incontrovertible proof to his scientific psyche that he _was_ worthy of love.

And that Sara Sidle did indeed love Gil Grissom.

So she led him by the hand, not seductively, no…this was not about sex or lust.

She led him tenderly towards their haven, reclining both of them on the comfort of their cushioned love nest. The room illuminated softly by the silk-covered windows, the soft sounds of the waterfall the only sounds except for a sustained release of a breath or sigh.

Clothes were displaced with the passion of soft kisses, gentle touches, warm skin contacting skin shivering with delight.

There was no talking, the intimacy of the moment providing all the communication necessary.

He had allowed himself to fully relax and accept the gift she so desperately wanted to give. No person had ever loved him with such completeness.

It is no wonder that when words finally became necessary to enhance the ecstasy of the moment, they were chosen carefully and spoken with such intensity that a tear was shed by both partners.

At the penultimate moment, the air was filled with truth and emotions, with groaning in a volume that increased with every thrust, with phrases like: love me…adore you….my only love…promise you…forever…forever…_for..e..ver…_

The scurrying movement of the butterflies intensified throughout the verbal climax. As the sounds died down to return their space to quiet, the air was filled with only heavy breathing masked by noses pressed into the crook of a partner's neck. As if on cue, the winged beauties perched happily around the backboard of the divan, displaying their delight.

All was as it was supposed to be.

-----------------------------------------------------

Having made himself presentable, Andrew picked up the file, hiding the file name against his trim midriff.

As he was walking out of Grissom's office, he turned to be sure the door was closed as he had found it.

When he turned back around, he found himself face to face with Doc Robbins.

"May I ask what you were doing in there?" admonished the doctor.

Andrew displayed his practiced look of innocence. "I wanted to drop off a file, but Grissom is not in his office, so I decided to wait until I see him."

As the coroner knew that there had been a new hire whose main job description was to handle evidence, the fact that this stranger was carrying an evidence file did not ring any alarms in Al's usually overly-cautious mind.

"I take it you are…"

"Andrew. Andrew Canalla. New to the graveyard shift. Evidence Supervisor." he smiled his "friends and family love me" smile.

_I don't trust this one. My intuition tells me to watch him like a hawk._

"Al Robbins. _Doctor _Al Robbins. Coroner." Doc usually dispensed quickly with his title. But there was something about this man that made him want to delineate his authority from the start.

"Well, Doctor, nice meeting you. I am off to Trace to check on some paperwork. Looking forward to meeting you again." Andrew replied, backing down the hallway slightly as he spoke.

Doc stood there continuing his evaluation of this newcomer. _There's something about him…_

"Right," Doc said in his dismissive tone, before turning sharply aided by his crutch. He headed swiftly down the hallway, peering into lab windows as he headed towards Brass' office.

-------------------------------------------

It had been a busy shift. The retelling of the upset with Ecklie, followed by the hush-hush evidence processing, had led the rest of the team to wonder what in the world was_ really_ happening and why they were out of the loop.

That is why when shift was nearing the end, Warrick and Nick felt it was time to gather the troops and powwow at the diner. They needed answers.

Unable to raise Grissom by phone, they proceeded together to Brass' office. He was a detective after all, and it didn't hurt that he was the one true friend Grissom would acknowledge here at the lab. If anyone could find Grissom, Brass could.

They stood outside Brass' office ready to knock, when Nick pulled Warrick's hand off the knob and motioned him to remain quiet.

Brass was talking to Doc. The gist of the conversation was about Sara.

"She's in no position to return right now, Jim," Doc intoned sadly.

"She's stronger than you give her credit for," Jim defended a bit too loudly.

"Sara is still healing from her accident. The newest bruises incurred at Ecklie's hands may have re-injured some vulnerable areas. I need time to check her over before I can allow her to return to active duty." Doc said dismissively.

"Sara does not deserve the kind of once-over _you_ are thinking of! Just because Ecklie thinks she is a psychotic time bomb does not mean _you_ have to play into his hands.!" Brass defended her heatedly.

"He is going to go over my head to the Sheriff, Jim. If I don't certify her as fit to return to work before he does that, Ecklie is going to take this matter out of my hands. Then the DUI, the accident, and then her not-so-subtle death threats will be scrutinized under a not-so-flattering light." Doc argued, slamming his hand for emphasis on Brass' desk.

Outside, Nick and Warrick just stared at each other. _DUI? Ecklie? Death threats? SARA?_

Now they definitely needed answers.

And that is how they found themselves heading to Grissom's townhouse.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Home early due to the snow! Hubby still at work, which allows me time to squeeze out one more chapter. Looks like tomorrow will be ice, so I am a bit concerned about the power going out, especially after Sunday's high wind and the damage that brought. Glad to get this other chapter out at the request of all my loyal reviewers and readers. May you be enjoying a snow day too! You are terrific! Thanks for supporting this story! -Kathy

She looked like an angel.

Grissom woke sometime later to find Sara sleeping soundly in his arms. Her hair was splayed over her pillow as the crook of her neck rested softly on his shoulder. His arms were now wrapped possessively around her.

_I never thought I would be capable of loving someone so much that they truly became a _part_ of me._

_She has my heart._

_I love her completely…_

The need to protect her was suddenly his sole focus in life. But he was worried.

What _had_ happened today? And more importantly, what _would _happen tomorrow?

He was glad Catherine had compiled that file. It literally was the only bit of compelling evidence to exonerate any trumped up charges Ecklie would file with the Sheriff.

He glanced at Sara as his thoughts turned to Ecklie.

_He's going to suspend her. I will request an inquest into the charges. That evidence…_

Again the importance of that file made Grissom anxious to talk to Catherine. Yet…the thoughts of leaving Sara, even for a moment, created a morbid fear within him.

_Look what happened the last time I left her…_

For the first time, Gil Grissom felt like running away.

Perhaps he could take Sara, use all this accrued sick days and vacation time and look for a new position somewhere far from Vegas. He smiled as he thought about all the problems that would solve.

_We could start fresh some place, work together without fear of disclosure…be happy together._

He sighed as he looked down on her again.

_She has been moved so much in her life, though. The team...they are like the only family she has ever known…I know she loves those guys…it would have to be her decision._

A hard series of knocks on his front door brought him out of this daydreams. Sliding her slowly out of his grip, Grissom left her asleep as he hopped one-footed to don his khakis as he quickly made his way to the doorway of the den.

Once on the other side, he shut if softly to prevent the noise from waking her. He finished with the zipper and moved forward, shirtless and shoeless, to find out who was so damned insistent about entering his home.

They had been knocking for a full minute, but did not entertain the idea of leaving. Nick and Warrick had discussed what they knew and realized they did not know enough.

Sara obviously was in some kind of trouble. And they were not leaving until they could find out what to do about it.

Grissom admitted them, sensing what their visit was about.

Seated around his living room, Gil faced their inquisition without disclosing the fact that Sara was asleep in the other room, in _their_ other room.

"We don't know it all, but we know Sara has been in some kind of trouble," Nick began.

"Yeah, Griss, and we need to know the whole story, and what we can do about it," Warrick broke in, his eyes trained on his supervisor. _Never took him for a barefoot and shirtless kind of guy._

Grissom sighed. He didn't want to relive the events of this shift, but he knew that these two, aside from being outstanding criminalists, were devoted to the team – and to Sara.

"Sara…took some time off a few weeks ago because she was working through some personal problems. Following that, she had a traumatic injury at home from a truly senseless accident…" At this point the two visitors sat forward, each eyeing the other as to whether the story seemed plausible.

"Today, even though she was supposed to be on sick leave because Doc Robbins would not certify her ready for work yet, Sara came to the lab." Here Grissom looked pained as he took a deep breath.

Nick spied the subtle change in manner and mood. _What the hell went down today?_

Grissom leaned back against the sofa, running a hand through his hair as if to calm the agitation building in his chest.

"I don't know what happened when she got there. I…came back…I had been out…I went to Ecklie's office…and there was Doc and Brass, running interference between Sara and Ecklie…he hurt her…then I heard Sofia shouting…" Gil stopped to regain his composure.

"Wait a minute! Sofia? What the hell was _she_ doing there? And what do you mean 'he hurt her'? Hurt her _how_?" Nick was off his chair and in Grissom's face, where Gil could see his veins pulsing in his neck.

"She's…bruised…all over. I don't know any more than that, Nick. I haven't been able to talk to her about what happened…" Gil was interrupted by an angry Nick.

"You haven't been able to _talk _to her? You mean, you just took her _home_? And _left_ her there? Alone?" Nick started pacing.

His anger getting the better of him, he growled at Gil while he grabbed for his coat, planning to make a hasty exit.

"Yeah, that _would_ be your style! Man…she goes through hell, and once again you pull your _famous_ vanishing act! Push her away whenever things aren't going like you planned. That's your M.O. It _stinks_ man!" Nick shook his head, pulling his dagger glare from Grissom's face for a moment. Then, anger again gluing his eyes to Gil's, he finished his tirade.

"She deserves better. _Better _than you! I will _never_ know why she wastes a _minute _of her time…she's too good for you, Grissom…, breaks my heart to see her pining away for –"

"Nick."

The softly spoken syllable caused him to spin on his heels and come face to face with a bruised, sleepy, beautiful Sara Sidle.

Without thinking, Nick wrapped his arms around her fighting back the tears of relief welling in his eyes.

Trying not to think, Sara accepted his arms around her fighting back the tears of pain caused by the crushing embrace.

Gil was at her side in a heartbeat, startling them as he bellowed, "Nick! Let her go!"

Not waiting for Nick to fully surrender her from his hold, Grissom's arms were like the jaws of life, running interference between Nick and Sara's body while reclaiming Sara into the safety of his own gentler embrace.

Warrick sat taking in the unexpected scene. _So that is how it is._

Nick stood speechless as Gil held Sara's face gently between his hands, looking for reassurance that she was not hurting. Her smile and gentle nod helped his heart rate considerably.

"Dang, girl, those are some mother bruises," Warrick smiled supportively.

"I guess nothing in my life is done halfway," quipped Sara, shooting a quick look into Grissom's still worried eyes. Her soft squeeze on his arm calmed him considerably, but he did not move from her side.

"Sara, sugar…wha…what happened? Tell us the whole story." Nick pleaded, re-seating himself on the edge of the highback chair's overstuffed cushion.

Glancing at Gil to reaffirm that this was okay with her, she tightened the belt of her silky, butterfly printed robe and moved to sit on the sofa. Gil guided her over solicitously, keeping his arm around her waist for support as she sat erect on the cushion's edge.

Some time later, having given the pertinent details only of the DUI and the accident, Sara was rapidly losing her courage. She hesitated in discussing today's fiasco with Ecklie, but Gil gave her a reassuring hug as he whispered in her ear, "Please tell us, honey."

Nick's eyes were trained on Sara, his body language indicating he was desperately trying to assimilate the information she had shared.

Warrick, however, was relaxing against the high back of his chair and observing the interaction between the couple.

_So…the man's made his move, staked his claim, _finally _knows what he wants. From what Sara says, and _isn't_ saying, this sounds like it's gonna be messy._

_Don't back down from this one, Griss…if her past experiences with Ecklie mean anything, she is gonna need you…hope that whole nightmare doesn't re-surface…I wish she had just…aw, forget it…I promised not to say anything, I _promised _her…dang…just don't back down, man…don't back down…_

Spurred on by Gil's encouraging support, she related the events of the hallway as she recalled them. Sara was always an excellent witness for the prosecution, being able to separate emotion from the actual events.

Her recollection of the events in Ecklie's office gave her audience a bird's eye view of the verbal sparring, but she soft pedaled the physical abuse she had suffered there at his hands.

And she kept Sofia out of it.

She felt Grissom's grip tighten as she related Ecklie's verbal battering. Sara knew Gil well enough that he suspected the physical battering she suffered was not secondary in nature. Rather, she believed Gil would see Catherine's photos and wonder why she was hiding from confronting Ecklie about the bruises.

_Please don't ask me anymore about Ecklie. I said I would never talk about abuse at his hands. It is a promise I intent to keep._

Searching the faces of the three men whose support she needed so desperately, Sara waited for the judgment she anticipated seeing in their eyes.

To her surprise, Nick moved forward to claim her hands in his. Warrick just sat forward, as if he was going to second whatever Nick was about to say.

"Sugar, we are with you…you know that, right? These things that happened a few days ago…they _happened_…but Ecklie…that _bastard_ is not going to get away with this…" Warrick held Sara's eyes for a pulse, and then nodded warily in agreement.

Sara wanted to plead with them to just let it go. She was prevented from speaking when Nick leaned back and looked Grissom square on. "What can we do to help?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Sofia lay propped up on her king-sized pillows, staring at the candles lighted around the room. Their reflection off the 800-count satin sheets provided her with a soothing environment for her own reflection of today's events.

Moving stiffly, she smirked to herself as she thought, "_Of all the ways I ever expected to have Conrad Ecklie on top of me, _that_ was certainly not one idea _I_ had entertained_!"

Her thoughts rambling, she thought about the power of Sara's physical reaction to the taunting she received at Sofia's hands. _"That girl had a punch, I will say that. She'd be a great front line of defense in a gang attack. Too bad, we won't have much of a chance to work together...'Too bad…so sad' ..." Sofia chuckled softly to herself._

As her thoughts ran from Sara to Grissom, Sofia's lower body began to unconsciously squirm slightly, but seductively. Her companion, eyes opening in response to the movement of the bed next to him, was becoming aroused just watching her.

He leaned over and said, "Hmm…sounds like you thinking of something…very…nice…" as he began to run his strong grip over her sleepwear.

Sofia laughed as she sucked in her breath the moment he moved over her sensitive spot.

"Just thinking about what I'd like to do…" her voice trailed off as her own arousal was building.

Yet, as suddenly as he had invaded her space, Andrew retreated to his personal space.

Andrew brought both of his hands behind his head, leaning back into the comfort of the pillows on his side of her bed. His reflective mood matched Sofia's as he recalled the events of the evening.

After his meeting with Doc Robbins in the hallway, Andrew had made a beeline to the break room. He had left his briefcase in one of the break room's open-storage caddies, and now was placing the pilfered evidence file safely inside before resetting the combination lock.

At the exact moment the last tumbler was reset, into the break room walked an irritated and slightly frumpled Sofia.

Attempting to garner adequate attention to herself, she was ranting and raving and swearing about this person Sara Sidle. Somewhere in mid-rant, Andrew put a face -well put those _legs_- to the name. With Sofia's back turned to him, he grinned evilly. _Well, well, well…Princess Sara._

Brought back to the present by Sofia's almost imperceptible wriggling, Andrew turned towards her and asked again.

"What are you thinking about _now_?"

Sophia sighed and responded pointedly, "Just thinking about what I'd like to do to Sara Sidle."

Andrew brought his hands back behind his head, closing his eyes, and thought,

"So am I, Sofia, so I am."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: No snow day tomorrow : ( ….but I did have such great reviews from the last chapter that I stayed up late to finish this chapter. I feel it is a turning point to the story. I am satisfied that it sets the stage for the next few chapters. Hope you will continue to review, it helps me shape the story and is a terrific motivator. Thanks for your wonderfully kind comments! –Kathy

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Conrad Ecklie sauntered determinedly down the quiet corridor towards the Sheriff's office.

He had Sara's suspension notice in hand, along with a well-rehearsed list of reasons for her dismissal.

He had prepared well, confident he had not overlooked even the most minute detail.

He was going to finally have Sara Sidle where he wanted her.

_Well,_ he licked his lips slowly,_ almost where I want her…_

As he rounded the final corner, he stopped dead in his tracks.

He had _not_ planned on seeing Al Robbins exiting the Sheriff's doorway.

Armed with files tucked under his arm, Doc looked up a bit startled at Ecklie's presence.

The two stood and stared menacingly at each other for a moment, before the doctor moved aside. Extending his hand with a bit of theatrical flourish, he smiled sardonically and said, "After you…"

Ecklie raced to confront him. "What the hell have you…?"

His statement remained unfinished as the door flew open to reveal an inquisitive Sheriff.

"Conrad?" he asked, making both men aware of his understanding of their conversation.

"Sheriff! I …was…"

"Come in, Conrad," the Sheriff commanded.

Conrad sighed and moved through the doorway. The Sheriff returned Doc's gaze without comment. The door closed.

Al turned to move down the corridor towards the lab.

_It was going to be a good day._

_-------------------------------------------------------------------_

Sara's fatigue had been evident as Nick and Warrick had begun engaging Grissom in planning their next move in her case.

Gil had refocused his attention back to Sara as he felt her leaning slightly into his supportive grip. Immediately he rose, taking her with him.

"Sara, you look like you should get some rest. Why don't you go to bed?"

Nick stood reflexively, about to ask Sara if she wanted _him_ to drive her home.

Instead, he just stood and really took in the scene.

_Grissom shoeless and shirtless. Sara in a dressing gown._

In a heartbeat, the situation became crystal clear to him. _She _is_ home._

He gulped and felt disoriented.

The couple was so focused on each other, they did not notice.

Warrick failed to suppress a full-faced grin at Nick's naïveté.

_Nicky, Nicky, Nicky…and you call yourself an investigator, man?_

Gil was already guiding Sara towards the den, not really aware of anything but her needs.

Once alone again, he slipped off her robe and helped secure her in her newly acquired comforter. Her eyes were already half-closed as he sat on the edge of the divan, taking in the sight of her.

Leaning in close to her, he breathed her in before depositing a loving brush of his lips against the side of her face.

"Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love"

She responded sleepily, half-speaking, half-exhaling, "Shakespeare?"

He smiled longingly. She was asleep.

Grissom stood a moment before backing away, hoping his movement would not stir her.

He gazed up at the butterflies softly setting upon the silken window covering.

"Watch over her," he muttered softly before turning away.

Had he stayed in place, he would have seen her blue winged guardian descend from its perch, and nestle itself softly in Sara's outstretched palm.

Determinedly, Grissom now strode back towards the living room, donning a sweatshirt from off the end table in the den as he moved to rejoin his team.

She was safe. For now.

He planned on keeping her that way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Ecklie left the Sheriff's office. He was fuming.

_Robbins needs to stay out of my business_, he grumbled. _That bitch certainly has influential friends._

Upon returning to the lab the previous night, Doc called the Sheriff at home to request a before-shift meeting in his office.

The coroner had saved the Sheriff from media frenzy on several occasions. The Sheriff knew that the lab's rating and perceived status was due in no small part to this physician.

In other words, the Sheriff owed him. Big time.

So the pre-dawn phone call was not a problem for either man.

Until their meeting this morning, the Sheriff had no idea about Sara's treatment at the hands of Ecklie. Doc was more than happy to share the written statements of the two lab techs, along with his professional notes on Sara's progress in recuperating from her injuries suffered in the fall.

Doc had convinced that Sheriff of three important factors dealing with the events that transpired the previous night.

First, because she was technically not on the work roster for the evening, she could not be eligible for any disciplinary action at the hands of Ecklie.

Secondly, her recuperation period would need to be extended to recover from the new injuries sustained in her encounter with Ecklie.

Finally, if her injuries were not sustained as an on-duty employee, Sara had the right to levy civil charges against Ecklie.

The Sheriff had understood the message underlying Doc's well prepared presentation.

Needing to reclaim some control over the situation, the Sheriff assured Doc that he would take Sara's best interests to heart, and that he would summon Ecklie for a private meeting this morning before making any decisions. His final words were a promise to keep Al informed of the disposition of the case.

That is why there was no little satisfaction in Doc's discovery of Ecklie on this office doorstep.

_Like a lamb to the slaughter_, chuckled Doc as he continued toward the morgue.

--------------------------------------------------------

Grissom listened to the office gossip surrounding the backstory of Sofia's promotion.

Nick and Warrick had described Greg's rage at hearing about Sofia's good fortune surrounding the finding of crucial overlooked evidence.

That morning just a few days ago, Greg had rushed into the lab before the press conference was even finished airing on the midday news.

He had gone immediately to TRACE to reexamine the box of evidence Sofia had been processing when she uncovered the overlooked area that had been a breakthrough in the case, as well as for Sofia's career.

_Where is it? Where is it?_ Greg grumbled frantically as he separated and shook out each piece of evidence from the box.

Not finding the object of his search, Greg triumphantly strode towards Brass' office.

He found the detective's initial response to his interruption less than cordial, but that fact was lost on the irritated rookie CSI.

"It's missing," began Greg, breathless from his run.

"Sanders…" Brass started in his trademark sigh, which usually signaled _Don't. Bother. Me._

Greg ignored the warning and pressed on, plopping himself uninvited into a seat. That action made Brass sit up and pay attention.

"Look, I don't know what's going on here. All I know is, Sara was the last one to have her hands on that box of evidence. She had practically worked a triple, alone, trying to find corroborating evidence to her suspicions about the husband." Greg said defensively.

"When we work together, she always, _always_, leaves me printed instructions about either what _she _has already done or what _I _have to do next." Greg said pointedly.

Brass halted his rocking motion and brought his chair to an upright position.

_I have seen Sara complete double copied forms while she reviewed evidence in TRACE._

He recalled once finding her there doing just that, and how he had teased her about her 'chicken scratch'. She had just smiled and kept on writing.

"It isn't official protocol. Sara does it to help me learn the sequence and the shortcuts to processing large amounts of evidence. I have her notes transcribed and downloaded onto my laptop. She's kind of my unofficial mentor…" he broke off, the implications of the new lab hierarchy just now settling into his consciousness.

Brass brought him out of his thoughts. "And you have checked around for her notes?"

Greg continued animatedly. "See, that's the thing. They aren't there. The box had the clothes and nothing else. Even if Sofia had found it, she wouldn't have had any reason to…" He stopped talking.

Greg and Brass locked eyes. _Perhaps our jobs just make us overly suspicious…but have we _really _just uncovered something here? _

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grissom was sitting and reflecting as both Nick and Warrick spoke.

_That must have been why Brass was in Ecklie's office last night. He was checking up on …Sofia?_

_What did Sofia have to do with all this?_

_How did this involve Sara?_

Questions outweighed answers, not a good situation for a scientist to find himself.

Nick flat out confessed that he believed Sofia was Ecklie's pawn, trying to get Sara under her jurisdiction.

"What possible reason would Sofia have to do that?" argued Grissom, still unwilling to admit that he was feeling like an unwitting pawn in a much larger game.

Nick and Warrick looked at each other, replying in tandem, "Ecklie."

Grissom could not deny the tension that had seemed to always exist between Conrad and Sara.

He remembered how Ecklie insisted on firing Sara after her blow-up with Catherine in the lab. _He had been so irate, almost irrationally so_, Gil now recalled.

He sat back and ran his fingers through his graying curls, once again trying to get a handle on the pieces of evidence now before him. _Something is not adding up. _

"The evidence never lies." he mused quietly to himself.

_Oh, Sara – how can I ask…do _you_ have the missing piece to solve this puzzle?_

Sara. Ecklie. Sofia.

Sofia. Grissom ran doubletime through his recent encounters with her.

The looks, the touches, the words…

He stood suddenly like a man on a mission.

"Nick, Warrick, if you really want to help Sara, I need you to keep this between us and only us."

Both men nodded in agreement, with Warrick adding, "What do you need, Griss?"

Before replying, he gave a quick glance towards the closed door of the den.

_I can't tell her about _any_ of this now. _

_Honey, I _promise_ I will tell you everything soon. _

_I hope she can trust me enough. _

_I hope I don't hurt her. _

_I hope I don't screw this up…"_

He turned his steely gaze towards them.

"I want to test a theory…."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Sheriff had refused to accept Ecklie's suspension notice for Sara.

Actually he had shredded it in front of the lab director, being strongly tempted to toss the crumpled chunks of paper into Ecklie's dropped-jawed opening.

He wouldn't let Ecklie explain his side of the story, which meant that technically the Sheriff had no idea what actually happened inside Conrad's office, the lab techs depositions only focusing on his actions in the hallway.

"I'll save you, and the lab, from the publicity of a civil suit, Conrad," the Sheriff intoned dangerously.

"Leave Sidle alone."

The message seemed to carry an undercurrent that sent the hairs on the back of Ecklie's head to stand on end.

Ecklie, however, was too worked up to leave it be.

"Sir, _she_ attacked _me_, verbally and physically, and I…"

The Sheriff ended the discussion by slamming two fists onto his mahogany desktop.

"You are a big boy, Conrad. Stay away from the girls and _they. won't. hurt. you_.!"

At this point, Ecklie didn't care _what_ the Sheriff thought he knew. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Sheriff stopped him again by opening a new file on his desk.

Conrad stopped short as he read the name Sara Sidle on the crisp edge of the new folder.

"I have decided to keep my own file on this CSI, Ecklie. I have two depositions from eyewitnesses to last night's…_close encounter_ between you and Miss Sidle. Anything you can to pass along to me, I will review and place in this file if I deem it germane to the discussion."

With that, the Sheriff placed the file in his side drawer and locked it with some drama before returning to stare at Ecklie.

"Keep the peace in my lab, Conrad. Or I will get someone who _will_."

With that, he strode over to the door and opened it, signaling Ecklie that his presence was no longer required.

Once alone in the corridor, Ecklie spun himself into a fit. He slammed into an empty worklab, standing in the darkness as his hatred for Sara molded him into a vehicle for vengeance.

"This is not over, Sidle. You will _never_ bring me to my knees!" he sputtered, while his rage envisioned an outlet for his anger.

"But I _will_ bring you to _yours_!"

-----------------------------------------------------

Having agreed on a plan of action, Nick and Warrick were just departing when a strangled cry was heard from the den.

The two younger men started to move, but their progress was halted by Grissom.

"She has nightmares," he said as he turned.

Moving swiftly, he said over his shoulder, "Let yourselves out."

With that he disappeared through the doorway, racing to her.

He saw the fits of terror wracking her slight figure. The bruising was being harmed by her thrashing, causing some paper cuts to ooze a slight bit of blood from her rough contact with the headboard.

"Sara, sweetheart," he had started speaking even before reaching her.

He paused briefly to turn on the satellite radio and by the time he reached her, the soft strains of a string quartet added a measure of comfort to the room.

She continued with a variation of her recurring nightmare.

_Her hands were strapped down and her feet were spread uncomfortably far apart, secured at the ankles. _

_A cacophony of noise made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening around her._

_She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound._

_Someone was touching her, reaching under the blanket…NO!_

_A hypodermic needle being prepped in against the wind_

_She was begging someone to help her._

_Then she saw Grissom._

_She felt herself calling out to him._

_He looked her directly in the eye._

_Then he turned and walked away._

_She was screaming his name, pleading with him, begging him…_

"_Grissom! Please! Help me! Please! Don't leave me! I need you! GRISSOM!"_

Her cries almost stopped his heart from beating.

He held her close, shushing in her ear, pleading for her to accept the reality of his presence.

The nightmare was holding her fast, only his patience finally brought her to some sort of dimly awake state.

Her blue winged friend was frantically flapping on his new perch away from her flailing arms. Its movements had summoned a small group of butterflies to join in holding vigil on the headboard above her now sobbing figure.

"I'm right here, my love…I'm right here…you're safe…you're safe…I'm right here…" he cooed softly above the thunderous rush of his own heartbeat over his compromised hearing.

Every muscle had been so tensed throughout her ordeal, that now pain from the bruising and the small bleeding areas wracked her body.

Sara accepted his comfort as she wept bitterly from the emotional and physical pain she was enduring.

_She needs comforting,_ he thought, frantically trying to formulate a plan to soothe her body and soul

_A warm bath, _he decided.

Without any discussion, he stood and scooped up Sara as she continued to cling to him.

"Come on, sweetheart. How about a nice long soak in a hot bath to make you feel better?" he whispered in her ear, making his way to the airy master bath.

The couple disappeared through the entryway.

The door was left ajar.

A small contingent of butterflies followed along a respectful distance behind them.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: A sweet chapter to enjoy with Valentine's Day tomorrow… This chapter pretty much wrote itself. Although some might say this is just a chapter full of fluff, I feel it provides some cement to their burgeoning relationship that will be important in future chapters. Besides: ) when these two start whispering in your ear, you might as well listen. Next update not for a few more days…As usual, my loyal reviewers keep me going…You are great! – Kathy

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The master bath had been a deciding factor in Grissom's decision to purchase the townhouse. Aside from its imported Italian tile-covered walls and flooring, it housed a magnificent oversized federal blue ceramic tub. The styling was reminiscent of the 1940's claw-footed, curled rim variety, but this tub offered some state-of-the-art amenities.

The ceramic had been effused with a substance that softened the texture and made reclining more pleasurable, reducing the stress on a person's pressure points.

The walls concealed heating elements that not only aided in maintaining the desired water temperature for a longer period, but became an auxiliary heating source when the sanijets were turned on, creating a space age luxury spa.

Grissom's long hours and hectic lifestyle did not leave him with nearly enough time to put this fixture to frequent use, though on a particularly long shift the thought alone of coming home for a long soak in it brought him relief on some level.

Today, he was glad it was here for Sara. He was sure it would comfort her from the aches and pains of her ordeal.

He hoped it would restore some feeling of well-being, serving as a relief from her worries.

He smiled inwardly. _But I guess that really is _my_ job now._

Having carried her into the master bedroom, he lay her quiet figure on the king-sized bed and kissed her cheek softly before brushing her errant curls out of her eyes, making her look him in the eye.

"I'll just be a minute to set up the tub, then you can have a nice long soak, ok sweetheart?"

He stood to leave, but Sara grabbed at his wrist to pull him back to her.

Gazes still locked, she looked at him wide-eyed and asked meekly, "Stay with me?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and began to explain more clearly, "Sara, the hot soak will make you feel better. You won't be so…" he was distracted from his speech as his eyes looked for the first time at the fully apparent bruising.

As Sara usually only wore a spaghetti strap camisole and matching bikini to bed, that was what she had donned under the butterfly robe during her visit with Nick and Warrick.

When Grissom had put her to bed, the lights were low and he had hurried her out of the robe and under the comforter.

Now, in the daylight, the investigator was already tracing the bruising in his mind. The apparent hand prints were in various shades of deep purple, indicating the strength and duration of the abuse.

"Griss?" Sara asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Her weary gaze had not followed his, and she was not aware of his divergent train of thought.

"Griss…will you…?" she began.

He took up both her hands in his one, smoothing her hair with the other in a soothing touch.

"_Anything_, Sara…what do you need?" he smiled lovingly, causing concern when her face did not reflect his demeanor.

She looked at him for what seemed like an eternity. There was no exuberance, no flirtatious tone, just a simple statement of fact.

"You…" she said huskily, her eyes beginning to become filled with emotion. She took in a chest-heaving breath to regain her control.

"I just need _you_. Will you come with me for a soak? And just hold me?"

The simplicity of her request was his undoing. He reached forward, pulling her into his grasp. She seemed so frail to him at this moment. He was almost afraid to release her, so strong was his need to protect her.

These feelings overshadowed his need to exact revenge for the treatment she had suffered at the hands of that maniac.

_There would be time for all that…and he _would_ pay_, Grissom swore internally.

Right now, Sara needed him.

And that is how they found themselves a few moments later, standing beside the ceramic vehicle that would provide their momentary getaway from all matters that contributed to their mental and physical stress.

----------------------------------------

Having shed their clothing, they placed two of his terrycloth short robes on the clothes hooks inside the door.

Grissom had already turned up the bathroom heat, each room being zoned separately. He had adjusted the speaker volume for the satellite radio installed in the bedroom, and dimmed the overhead lights somewhat.

They stood there before the tub now, Gil shielding Sara's body from the chest height mirrors so as not to alarm her the first time she saw herself after that night.

Instead, he led her softly by the shoulders, kissing one softly as he moved past her to enter the liquid piece of heaven. Then he turned and supported her while she bent her long legs and stood before him, having fully entered the watery arena.

Grissom's gently touched her upper arms, moving them to turn her so that she faced away from him, when he involuntarily gasped.

"Gil!" yelped Sara, worriedly. "Are you alright?"

'_Yes, but _you_ aren't!' _he wanted to scream, but not wanting to worry her, he kept silent.

He stood horrified at the amount of purplish and sickly-blue imprints across her back.

_Blunt force on a wide scale…the bastard must have thrown her against the wall!_

It was becoming difficult to control his rage, causing Sara to ask again as she tried to turn against his unwilling hands, "Gil! Tell me what's wrong, baby!"

The scenario kept playing out before him, and with each replay he felt his anger building, causing his grip on Sara's shoulders to become painful.

"Gil! Stop! You're hurting me!" Sara yelled as she tried to put some distance between them.

Her shrieks caused him to snap back to the present, reaching for her, and frantically calling to her frightened form, "Sara…honey…I'm so sorry…so sorry…Sara…"

He refused to let her turn to see him. She was a top-notched investigator who would have deduced the reason for his emotional outburst immediately. He needed to calm down. This was not about _him_, it needed to be about what _she_ needed now.

"Sara…will you trust me?...please, honey…let me get settled and then I'll help you sit and relax, ok?...Sara?"

Hanging her head for a moment to regain her composure, Sara just nodded her head.

Grissom sat quickly, the warmth of the almost shoulder-high deep water causing a sigh to be released from his own depths.

"Sara…" he reached out with both hands, leaning forward to help deposit her in his lap, her long legs almost extending the full length of the tub.

"Oh," she whimpered softly as the warmth encircling the paper-cut style openings stung sharply with the initial contact to the areas that had bled slightly.

"Ah," she sighed softly as she leaned against his warmth.

Having her seated almost on his lap, surrounded by the warm water, with the strains of a piano concerto lilting through the low lighting of the room caused his body to instantly react.

He shifted nervously, hoping she would not feel the strength of his male reaction, making her wonder if he had an ulterior motive for insisting on a warm bath.

He was worried that she would not understand the depth of his true feelings for her.

He was so much older, and she was young and beautiful.

He was certainly _not_ looking for just a roll in the hay.

He saw the act of making love as an almost spiritual thing, uniting two people in the most intimate form of sharing. Since they had met all those years ago, he had always desired to fully communicate his most intimate side with Sara.

But sitting here, he worried she was going to get the _wrong_ message.

Sara leaned against him and soon understood the reason for his sudden attempts at repositioning.

She smirked softly, wondering how to put him out of his misery.

She had known Gil Grissom long enough to understand that he must be filled with self-doubt right about now.

_Poor baby. This is all so new to him._ She coughed lightly, attempting to disguise her amusement.

_He is so damned introspective. He holds the bar high for everyone, and impossibly higher for himself._

_But…that is just one of the many reasons I have always loved this wonderful man._

Today, however, she did not want him to suffer any self-recriminations. She just wanted to be with him. And if that meant he unconsciously wanted to _be_ with her….

Sara leaned back fully into his chest, turned her head, and breathed into his ear, "Is that a bar of soap you have there, or are you just glad to see me?"

He was glad she could not see him face on. His blushing was a source of consternation to him. When he was in this proximity to her, he felt as out of control as a teenager on a Friday night date.

Gil leaned back against the rim of the tub, sliding them both slightly forward. His positioning placed her more comfortably over his _problem area_, and that made Sara sigh happily.

He smiled. She knew him…he was totally bare before her…and she loved him despite all his imperfections. He spoke softly:

"But love is blind and lovers cannot see  
The pretty follies that themselves commit;  
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush  
To see me thus transformed to a boy."

Sara turned her head towards him, but continued to look out to the tiles at the prismatic reflections of the dimmed lights off the bathroom mirrors.

"I love when you quote Shakespeare to me."

He leaned and whispered into her ear, "And _I_ love _you_."

Soon, the tub's timer kicked on the jets, creating a soothing motion which allowed both of them to relax fully.

He noticed she was melted against him, quiet and still, her breathing contented.

_I wonder if she…if now would be a good time to…_

He cleared his throat and without opening her eyes she declared forcefully, "The answer is _yes_, to anything, if I just don't have to get out of this heaven right now."

Her smile would have dimmed if she could have seen the regret in his eyes.

"Sara?...please tell me the rest of the story about last night."

Immediately, he could feel her react although she would not seem to a casual observer to have moved an inch. Her continued silence made him uneasy. He reached tentatively for her hand and was encouraged when she did not pull away.

The silence continued. Finally,

"What more is there to tell? What is it you need to know?"

"Honey, your back is so bruised…"

----------------------------------------"I told you I bumped into him in the hallway and he was angry and led me…."

"Sara…" he was keeping his voice calm while his insides were churning, "He threw you against a wall."

---------------------------------------Her silence affirmed his belief. "He…it wasn't exactly…"

He interrupted. "Sara, what happened when you got to his office?"

Again there was silence. This time he could feel the wheels in her head turning, looking for a way to escape. Unwittingly, he closed his arms around her in a loving, supportive embrace.

"Sara," he whispered into the silence, "please…let me help you…please, honey…"

A tear now escaped from her closed eyelids.

_How can I tell one piece of a very complicated puzzle without bringing the entire picture into the spotlight?_

"Gil…" she tried a different approach. "I can handle Ecklie. I don't want to blow this little incident out of proportion. He lost his temper. I lost mine. He said things. I said things. I…I am just going to put it where it belongs…in the past. I can do that, and move on."

"_Little incident_?...Sara!" he groaned, exasperated. "_HOW_ can you just let someone continue to hurt you, and not want to make him pay bitterly for it?"

Perhaps she did not think about her response before she mouthed it.

Perhaps she _did_ think about her words, in an effort to drive her point home.

"Because….if I didn't do that…I wouldn't have _you_…."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Heartbreaking chapter ahead. I have to admit it brought out a sigh when I finished. But the story needs to move ahead. That is why I stayed up until the wee hours and rushed home from work to finish this. This chapter was just eating away at my brain, those two just not leaving me a moment's peace until it was done. Thanks for all the reviews and encouraging words. They mean so much to help me focus on the storyline. You are terrific! Next update whenever it is done. –Kathy

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_This is wrong._

_Here she is, asleep in my bed, our bed, and what am I doing?_

_I am getting ready to leave her._

_The last few times I have left her alone, she's been hurt, she's had nightmares, she's been frightened, she's been attacked._

_I should quit this job. _

_I should quit this job and steal away with her in the middle of the night. _

_Go where no one knows us. _

_Start a new life._

_It's what I want…a new life with Sara._

_I can't bear the thought of her being hurt again…especially by Ecklie._

_I could kill him._

_I need to keep my anger under control. _

_I need to talk to the Sheriff._

_I need to take that file and show him what happened to her._

_I need for Ecklie to be hurt...hurt badly…for what he did to Sara._

_I need answers._

_I can't get them here._

_I have to leave her._

_How can I leave her?_

_This is wrong._

Gil Grissom stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, totally conflicted. As his internal debate continued, the hands on his heirloom grandfather's clock continued to move towards the hour, indicating that the graveyard shift would be beginning shortly.

He had planned to take the next few days off, but with Sara still on sick leave, coverage for the shift was wearing thin. Besides, he needed to gather the evidence file to prepare for his scheduled meeting with the Sheriff in the morning.

And then there was the other matter involving Nick and Warrick.

He stood upright from his leaning position at the door, and was startled when the two-toned blue butterfly buzzed before him from its perch over the doorway. He watched as it soared busily towards Sara's sleeping form, alighting on her open palm.

Gil smiled. He approached the bed, whispering in its direction, "Fine. I know you will be here with her. But will that be enough?"

He sat on her side of the bed and watched the rise and fall of her chest. The garish blues and purples were like the work of a crazed artist on the ivory canvas of her skin.

He wanted to erase them, and the memories of how she got them.

He wished they could drift off into their Better Place.

With all the happenings, it had been a few days since they had rested well enough together to journey there.

The slow fluttering movement of little guardian wings reminded him of how she loved sitting in the ebony cave watching the blanket of butterflies nest overhead.

She was right in front of him now, and still he was aching because he already missed her.

He cupped her sleepy face in his gentle hands and pushed the curls off her cheeks.

She stirred as he spoke longingly:

As for me, to love you alone, to make you happy,

to do nothing which would contradict your wishes,

this is my destiny and the meaning of my life.

A moment later, "Shakespeare?" Sara intoned yawning.

"No, dear. Napoleon Bonaparte about his lovely Josephine."

Sara smiled while her eyes remained closed. "So you're going in tonight?"

There is was. His final chance to change his mind.

All his senses were on high-alert. He had bad feelings about leaving her tonight.

He sighed.

"It will be okay, Gil. Really, I'm fine." He rolled his eyes and was about to speak when she continued.

"I will be here when you get back."

Although he was not convinced, that thought warmed him and he inadvertently grinned on a sigh.

"Sara, I am going to send Warrick over to stay with you for a while. Sara-" he broke off as he placed one hand palm up to stop her protests.

"Warrick stays with you, or I won't go in. You decide."

He was feeling pretty good about this decision. He really wanted her to choose door number 2…

"Fine!" she sighed in defeat, moving to find her robe and climb out of bed.

"Sweetheart, why not stay in bed and get some rest. You were awful restless last night. Maybe you will sleep better alone?" His tone was meant to be caring.

Of course, Sara was having none of it.

"Maybe _you_ need to be alone to sleep better!" she huffed, wondering why she was being so unreasonable, as a part of her totally understood the point he was trying to make.

Gil was frustrated. He didn't want to go anyway, and he _really_ didn't want to go under these circumstances.

"Sara," he tried again. "Honey, I didn't –"

Sara cut him off.

"Sorry…really…you've been great…I don't know why……I'm sorry…" she turned to hide her face from him.

He refused to allow her to retreat within herself. He ran his hands around her until they enclosed her in a loving cocoon.

"Sweetheart, please. I love you. Please rest. If you want, I will stay with you until Warrick gets here."

She wouldn't look at him, but she did relax herself against him and nodded her assent.

Gil whipped out his cell with one hand, keeping the other firmly pressed against her to maintain the contact. He loved holding her.

Arranging with Warrick to arrive within the half hour, Gil repositioned himself in bed with her still in his arms. He talked to her about anything and nothing.

He just needed to be with her, it made him happy.

She just needed to hear his voice, it made her happy.

By the time Warrick knocked on the door, they had both accustomed themselves to the idea of their temporary separation.

Sara lay back down and he adjusted the covers. He kissed her soundly, professing his love, making her swear to call him is she needed _anything,_ even just to talk to him.

His last instructions to Warrick were: 1) to guard her with his life; 2) if he even suspected a problem with her, to call immediately and Gil would leave the lab to come home; and 3) whatever she needed, to be sure she had it.

And so it was that an hour or so later, Sara and Warrick were on the way back to Sara's apartment to retrieve some clothing and toiletries that she wanted to bring to the townhouse.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Upon entering his office, a feeling of disquiet overcame him. Gil went immediately to his desk, noticing that his chair was twisted towards the now-empty trash can in the corner.

Bringing it around to the correct position, he sat and immediately searched for the file Catherine had left for him containing the body shots of Sara's injuries. His meeting was scheduled for directly after shift, and he wanted to present as full a case as possible.

His anger flared as he failed to find it, ransacking drawers and overturning piles of files in an effort to locate it. He snapped his cell open and dialed furiously.

"Willows."

"Catherine! The file?"

"Yeah, on your desk, rushed it through myself, although I wasn't too happy leaving it unattended. I know your office door was closed, but it didn't lock and…"

"You mean…you left it?...on my desk?"

Silence on both ends as the meaning of his question settled on both of them.

"I'll be right there."

When Catherine arrived, Grissom was pacing and swearing oaths under his breath.

"Sit down, Gil, please. Let me have a look, ok?"

Gil did as she asked, trying to ward off a tension-induced migraine.

Only seconds went by before Catherine joined him on the couch.

"Gil…we have a problem."

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On the way to the apartment, Sara wished aloud for some of Greg's Blue Hawaiian to clear out the cobwebs that these early morning hours were creating for her. Having been out on sick leave for about ten days now, she was having the kind of trouble international travelers encounter while getting used to the switch of days and nights.

Warrick offered to stop down the road to get coffee. Sara agreed, but asked Warrick to leave her off at her place first, to speed the packing and get them back to the townhouse sooner.

She would not admit it to Warrick, but she was beginning to regret her decision to come here, as she really felt bone tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up in the den for a rest.

Having reached the lot in front of her building, Warrick started to shut off the ignition when Sara placed her hand gently on his and said, "Go get the coffee. I'm a big girl I can go in all by myself."

He started to protest and she laughed.

"What, you don't think that after all these years I can't walk 15 stairs into a lighted hallway?"

"Griss, he made me promise…"

"I won't tell…and if you had let me go, I would be inside already."

Warrick promised he would watch her enter and made _her_ promise to lock her door until he got back.

Sara walked up the familiar path, hiked the 15 stairs, and disappeared through the door leading to the hallway.

Once she was out of sight, Warrick pulled out of his spot and headed towards the coffee spot.

He couldn't put his finger on why he felt so uneasy, but decided to hurry his trip and get back to Sara quickly.

The investigator in her scanned the differences immediately. The long hallway leading to her apartment was not fully lit. Bulbs were missing from some overhead fixtures, causing shadows to appear in the hallway.

The silence of this section of the building had been a selling point when she first arrived in Las Vegas. Now…it unsettled her. Her ears strained for signs of life as she proceeded with outward calm to her destination.

As she neared her door, her ears picked up the sound.

But before she could react, she had been body slammed from behind into the wall right next to her door.

"Where have you _been_, Sara?...I've been _waiting_ for you…"

The smell of the scotch on his breath, the heavy breathing on her neck as he nipped painfully onto her shoulder heading lower, the vile suggestiveness of his comments…_NO! This can't be happening again!_

"Open the door!" he hissed roughly, bringing her up and jamming his body painfully to nail her against her front door. "Hurry…or you'll regret it!"

The tumblers barely had time to move before he forced the two of them through the opening, tossing her onto the rug in the foyer as he flipped on one light and swiftly re-bolted the locks.

Before she had time to react, he was upon her. Every defensive movement she made was met with a loud _slap_ of his open hands against her face. He laughed wickedly as he pinned her hands over her head and began to rip at the seams of her knit sweater, enjoying their demise under his strong grip.

"You remember how this goes, don't you Sara?" he mocked.

"You give me what _I_ want, and we keep your little secret and Grissom keeps his job."

"Get._OFF_. Me!" Sara struggled, only to be slapped so hard, she felt blood ooze from her ear.

"Oh, I _will_ get off, and yes it _will_ be all over you, but not now, Sara…we're gonna have some _fun_ first!"

With that, he pulled her up and over to the couch, slamming her hard into the cushions. He reached for a balled up old comforter and jammed it under her mouth to suppress her cries.

Making quick work of her sweatpants, he was just about to commence with his sick designs for their interlude when he heard a knock at the door.

"Sara! Hey, I've got the coffee! Girl, don't make me wait all day! Coffee's getting cold! Sara, come on!"

Recognizing Warrick's voice, the intruder immediately stood and cursed lowly.

"History does repeat itself, my dear," he snarled, grabbing her by the back of the hair and flipping her on her back painfully.

He reached down and kissed her fully before slamming her face into the front of his pants.

"Next time, Sara Sidle, next time."

He tossed her back, releasing her hair as she slumped onto the floor.

The banging on the front door became more frantic, the noise covering the hasty escape out into the darkness outside her kitchen door.

Sara could hardly breathe. She crawled over to the foyer, raising herself painfully as Warrick continued to plead with her on the other side.

He had his cell phone out and had just speed dialed Brass as he heard the lock release from the other side.

Just as Brass answered the phone, the door before Warrick opened to reveal a slumped over figure with fresh bruising.

When Brass received no response, his voice betrayed his anxiety. "'Ric. Is it Sara?"

Sara could hear Brass' voice. She reached up to Warrick's face, shaking her head violently and pleading silently, "No. Warrick, no. Please. Please. _Please_."

He hid the phone against his chest.

Warrick's eyes widened perceptibly. He spoke in hushed tones. "_No_…it _wasn't_…was it _him_? Did _he_ do this to you? _Again_?"

They stared at each other for a heartbeat. Warrick understood that they were reliving her nightmare.

What passed between them left them exactly where they had been five years ago.

"Sara, no…_not_ this time!" He resolved through gritted teeth.

"You _promised_…"she mouthed.

"No! I want to nail this guy!" he argued in hushed tones.

"Then I have to leave here…" she said, slumping forward.

"Sara…" Warrick almost whispered his angry compliance.

"Warrick! Dammit! Answer me or I'm dispatching some units!" barked Brass over their silence.

Sara eyed him sorrowfully as he retrieved the cell and spoke in clipped tones.

"Brass…I am with Sara…at her apartment…she…uh…she's hurt herself…she…fell…" this caused Warrick to bury the phone against his forehead before continuing.

"She..uh..she won't go to the ER…I…" he sighed heavily and resignedly, " I'm going to check her out and _if I think she needs medical attention_," he glared at her, "I'm bringing her in to see Doc."

Sara brought her gaze around, refusing to look at Warrick. Her ear was throbbing, and her back felt broken. She wanted to curl up and die.

_We had a deal. He broke the rules. I want him dead. I have nowhere to go. Grissom…I'm so sorry…_

Warrick ended the call and knelt quickly beside her, taking her gently into his arms.

"Sara…don't let him do this to you again…this time you _have_ to file a report…you can't _trust _him…he's dangerous!"

Tears flowed freely down Sara's cheeks. "He…he…hurt…me…" was all she could get out before she collapsed into him sobbing deeply.

"Sara…let me take you to the hospital…"

"NO! _NOBODY _KNOWS ABOUT THIS! _NOBODY_! YOU _PROMISED_ ME!" she screamed, trying to pry herself out of his grip.

"Okay, okay, calm down, Sara, calm down…"Warrick said worriedly, reclaiming her in his grip.

He rocked her for a few minutes until the sobbing was under control before he forced her to look at him.

"Sara…I need to know…just to be _absolutely_ sure about this…if it was…"

It took all her reserve to raise her head enough to look him directly in the eye, her body quivering as she answered,

"Ecklie."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Insomnia. Go figure. Too much action in my head. Not enough words to relate it all. Here's my attempt. Hope you will review. You remain great! Thanks for supporting this story.

-Kathy

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Gil bounded down the hallway from the Sheriff's office.

He approached the side exit doors and under the pressure of his angry gestures they split apart, slamming against the bricks behind them.

Why did everything have to be so black-and-white? Just once, couldn't _someone _read between the lines?

"_You have no corroborating evidence, Grissom. I can't just go around filing complaints against my staff without _some_ semblance of probable cause!"_

The Sheriff made it crystal clear: if Sara wasn't going to pursue this matter further, neither would his department.

Grissom stood with his back against the wall, staring up into the night sky. He knew she wasn't going to do anything about Ecklie.

He couldn't figure out why she would let Ecklie off the hook. Even a casual observer would note that there was no love lost between the two. _It must be_ _something else_…

He thought about calling her when his pager went crazy, joining the pagers of the rest of the graveyard shift.

A multiple homicide had just been reported and the all-hands directive was sounded.

Grissom went into work mode. Moving back into the building, he felt better about his decision to keep Warrick on standby with Sara. _At least she won't be alone. Warrick will take good care of her. He has always been pretty protective when it came to Sara. _

By the time he arrived at the breakroom, Sofia and Andrew had joined Catherine and Nick. Brass sent word he would meet them there, asking Grissom to find him first when he arrived on the scene.

There were multiple tasks to be assigned. Sofia glanced up coyly when Grissom first announced that they would be paired together, leaving Catherine a bit flustered. He sent the rest of the team solo to various locations around the crime scene.

Catherine was even more disturbed when he overheard Gil as he leaned towards Sofia and half-whispered in her ear, "I'll just be a minute."

Sofia looked as if she were the cat that just swallowed the canary. She batted her eyes in Catherine's direction, swung her hair coquettishly, and swayed out of the room towards the main entrance to await Grissom's arrival.

Catherine was not pleased.

She started towards Grissom's office, when he came out after locking his door. The redhead flinched, trying to remember the last time that door had been locked.

The action particularly affected her, as he had always encouraged her to use his office to steal away in there to relieve the stress of the job. She had always felt a close connection to Grissom, perhaps closer than the rest of the team. So his locked door was tantamount to a slap in the face for her.

And now he had chosen Sofia over her to work this high profile case. Was he really that upset with her over the missing evidence file?

"Grissom, can we – "she began but he cut her off in mid-stride.

"Catherine, you have your assignment. Let's get to work."

With that, he strode past her to a waiting Sofia. Upon reaching her, he faced the blonde as he shifted his kit in one hand while reaching to take hers with the other. Sofia smiled sweetly at this gentlemanly action, and stepped aside for him to hold the door for her. Catherine noted she slipped past him a bit closer than needed as they headed out to his Denali.

Catherine stood there open-mouthed. She never took Grissom for the kind of man who would succumb to the blonde-stereotype. _I guess men will be men_, she griped inwardly as she blew her bangs out of her eyes and lugged her own case to her car.

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It had taken some time, but Warrick was adamant. Sara had two choices: ER or Doc Robbins.

"Fine," she pouted, grimacing at the facial pain that action created.

"ER?" Warrick said hopefully, although the answer was pretty predictable.

"I will go the lab on one condition," Sara snapped, jerking her arm to prevent him from helping her down the stairs. Truth be told, her back injuries made walking almost intolerable, but she was determined to maintain control of the situation.

"I _fell_…it's my story and I'm sticking to it. You weren't there. You didn't see what happened to me. Warrick…_promise me again_ – on your life – or I won't go!"

He sighed. She _would_ be that stubborn, too.

"Listen, Sara. You are wrong to do this." Instantly, she was pulling away from him. For the first time, he understood how Grissom felt when he shared his worry that Sara might run away if he pushed too hard.

"Sara…" he moaned, catching up with her. He grabbed her wrist tightly in a move intended to slow her down and talk to him; instead his action eliciting a sharp yelp from her. He released her instantly, moving to embrace her. _Great…now she'll have _more_ bruising around her wrist!_

They stood like that for a moment before Warrick continued.

"Girl…_whatever_, you know if this is how you want all this to go down, I'm there for you…I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore. Ecklie is just going to keep coming at you unless you pull a trump card on him. But right now, he thinks he holds all the chips, Sara, you know?"

He hoped she would think about what he had said.

But right now, he knew she needed some medical treatment.

"Come on, Sar…let's get over to the lab."

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When Brass first saw Grissom's Denali arrive at the scene, he made a beeline towards it.

What he observed made him slow his stride and narrow his eyes.

Grissom smiling? At Sofia? Sofia walking a bit too close, her hands brushing his "accidentally" while _he carried her case?_

Brass closed his eyes to keep his blood pressure from popping his eyeballs from their sockets. When he had counted to ten, he moved toward the graveyard supervisor with breakneck speed.

Grissom had just set their field cases down and was about to turn to say something to Sofia, when he felt himself twisted 180 degrees facing an angry Brass.

"Hey Gil, heard from Sara tonight?"

The jab had hit its mark. Grissom nailed Brass with a murderous stare, then turned to Sofia who had missed the opening remarks.

"Sofia, would you start in the main hall? I'll be right there." he asked, a bit too sappily for Brass' taste.

"Sure, Grissom, whatever you say," she cooed happily, leaving him a lingering smile before moving towards the scene.

Brass swung Grissom around again and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, was I interrupting something?"

Brass couldn't tell if Grissom was annoyed, perplexed, or just plain acting stupid. His blank stare made the seasoned detective a bit suspicious of the whole Sofia thing.

"Jim, why are you asking me about Sara? Has she called you?" Grissom asked a bit too calmly for Brass' liking. Inwardly, Grissom was thanking the heavens he had left Sara in such capable hands. Warrick would have called him personally if anything was wrong with Sara.

_Well, I wouldn't want to let a little thing like Warrick's phone call interrupt your little tea party with Sofia, so the hell with sharing my concerns about Sara…_

"No, she hasn't called me," he said truthfully, although he realized there were several levels of truth.

"Well, if there isn't anything else, I _do_ have more important things on my mind than to sit here and chat," Grissom stated a bit too formally, as he turned and headed towards the main hall – and Sofia.

_I bet you do_, cringed an angry Brass, who turned and read the riot act to the new recruits standing around his cruiser.

Once he had discharged some of his pent-up fury, he flipped his phone open and dialed Warrick's number. His brows went sky high when he reached voicemail.

_What in the hell is going on tonight?_

_----------------------------------------------------------------_

The minute he laid eyes on Sara walking into the morgue in front of Warrick, Doc knew something had happened.

Rushing away from the computer station, he moved towards them without taking his eyes off Sara.

Over the sound of his crutches tapping the tiles, he started, "_Tell me_!"

Sara would not look at him directly. She was hurting, and tired, and she knew coming here would be a bad idea.

Realizing Sara would not relate anything of what happened, Warrick moved forward to place his hand on her shoulder. His action brought her out of her musings with a start, as she jerked herself away from his touch.

This scene was not lost on the doctor, who immediately went into protective mode. He pulled Sara towards him, blocking Warrick's progress as he looked him in the eye and snapped, "I _said _what the hell happened here?"

The change in Doc's stance did not register with Warrick. He assumed his vigor was merely an expression of his concern for Sara. It wasn't until the next exchange was completed that Warrick began to get a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Well…she fell…and…"

"Get. Out."

Warrick stood still, eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

Doc stood in front of Sara and cried, "I. said. Get. OUT!"

Sara stood confused as this scene unfolded in front of her eyes. Why was Warrick being banished from the morgue? He was only trying to help…

When Doc repeated his decree a bit more forcefully, security entered the room asking if everything was alright.

Doc demanded that they take Warrick into custody until Detective Brass could be reached.

Sara immediately began to protest, but Doc wasn't even acknowledging her.

Warrick could see that Doc was concerned that Sara had been abused, and was taking the precautions he felt necessary to protect her.

Sara pulled herself out of range of Doc's grasp, widely circling to reach Warrick right before the two heavy-handed security guards clamped their restraints on him.

She hugged him tightly, and he moved his arms around her in a comforting gesture.

Sara looked up into his eyes in desperation, but he just smiled a bit and did his best to assure her that he was okay, she was okay, it would all be okay.

But as they pulled him from her whimpering grasp, all she could do was mouth, "I'm sorry," as he disappeared behind the swinging doors.

Sara felt like her whole world was spinning out of control. She stayed locked into the same position she had been before he disappeared to suffer unjustly at her hands.

_This is all my fault. I should never have come here. 'Ric is suffering for me. _

_I wish I were dead._

That thought made her pause. Warrick was doing all this to protect her and her damaging secret. She needed to pull herself together. She was a fighter. She was a survivor.

_But she was so very tired of fighting._

By this time, Doc Robbins had reached where she was standing. "Sara?" he said quietly, wanting to reassure her that she was safe now.

When she turned to face him, he was totally unprepared for the anger in her gaze or the venom in her tone as she voice, "What the _hell _did you just _do_?"

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Jim Brass was in work mode when his pager went off. Answering the page, he closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, all the years of feeling helpless towards solving abuse cases fueled his need to get back to the station. But first, he needed to take care of one piece of unfinished business.

Storming into the main hallway where Sofia was chatting up a storm working alongside Grissom, Brass pulled him into a standing position by grabbing the back of his jacket and simply yanked him out the door towards the waiting cruiser.

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Sitting in his living room, listening to the police scanner, Ecklie smiled. If what he deduced from the cryptic codes, Brass was being summoned to question a suspect about an abusive attack on a CSI tonight.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled softly, downing another scotch in one gulp. "Perhaps tonight was not such a failure after all."

He poured himself another shot, and made a toast to the air.

"To you, Sara Sidle…_until we meet again_."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: A slightly longer chapter, but I feel the characters all wanted their say. Hope you enjoy it. Your reviews let me know this story is on target; your comments help so much. So many new people flagged this as their Favorite Story. I feel very honored, thanks so much. Whether you review or not, thanks to all who support this story. You are great! – Kathy

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He had not spoken a word.

Grissom stared out at the darkness that loomed before them. The cruiser's lights cut an opening into the black abyss that allowed them entrance before returning seamlessly to a dark void behind them.

His thoughts were plummeting him into a frenzy of conflicting emotions.

_This cannot be happening…_

_I chose Warrick to watch over her…now Doc suspects he has abused Sara?..._my_ Sara?_

_I never should have left her…I won't be able to concentrate on my job if I can never feel she is safe…_

_Is my life _never_ going to be the same?_

_Will I _never_ have peace of mind again? Is she going to cause me worry at every step?_

_Am I strong enough to deal with this constant anxiety about her safety?_

_I don't think I can keep doing this…_

_What the _hell_ happened here tonight?_

_I trusted Warrick…no…I _trust _Warrick…this _has _to be a huge misunderstanding…but what if…_

_The evidence never lies…I have to hold back this desire to rip him apart...I need to talk to him…_

_But _if he hurt her_, I swear I'll…_

_I left them there…it's my fault…_

_I want her to be safe…I want her to be happy…_

_I want her…_

_Sara…_

_Please…be okay…_

Driven back to reality by the moderate slowing of the vehicle turning into the lab parking lot, Grissom was unbuckled and out of the vehicle before it was fully stopped.

Brass had to race to keep up with him as he headed down the long hall to the adjoining building which housed the interrogation room.

Focused as he was on seeing Warrick, he was unaware of Nick storming towards them from the opposite direction. Instead of acknowledging Grissom, Nick was consumed by a mission of his own.

Reaching the door just a few seconds before them, Nick surprised the guards by bursting into the room in a manner that nearly took the door off its hinges. He lunged towards Warrick, who had been pacing in an agitated manner while waiting for Brass.

"What the hell happened to Sara, you son of a bitch!" Nick exclaimed while swiping at Warrick with his clenched fists.

The air whistled by his ear, but Warrick had plenty of amateur experience in the ring, and knew how to deflect a punch.

"Nick! Cool down, man!" He dodged another attempt by Nick, narrowly grazing his chin.

"She _trusted _you, man!" Nick continued, only to feel the strong arms of Grissom pulling him back towards the door.

"Nick, this isn't helping her!" Gil bellowed, his heart racing at the sight of these two friends engaged in this behavior. "Nick, calm down or I'll have you removed!"

He continued to seethe, but drew a calming breath. His eyes burned into Warrick, who maintained his composure looking from Nick to Grissom while being careful to look both of them in the eye.

Grissom sat in the seat against the wall without speaking. Nick stood, arms crossed defiantly, his anger not fully under control.

Twisting the chair around on his side of the table, the detective barked, "Sit down, Warrick." Brass was definitely in work mode now.

Reminding himself that Sara depended on him, Warrick sat complacently, willing himself to keep the biting retorts buried – for Sara's sake.

He folded his hands on his lap, leaning backwards in his chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles, focusing his gaze on Brass.

A seasoned examiner, Brass leaned forward over the chair back without comment, allowing the uncomfortable silence to perhaps elicit a panicked plea for understanding – the first step in methodically tearing apart this hurriedly concocted story in the hopes of ascertaining the truth.

When, _in_ truth, he wanted to be tearing Warrick apart.

But Warrick was also experienced enough to know the drill, and he was willing to cooperate, but did not plan to offer any information that could lead to the accidental disclosure of his knowledge of the true events of the evening.

_Then, hardball it is…_Brass thought, internally conceding this questioning was going to require a more direct approach.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we 'Ric? Sara's fine, you show up, you're alone, you take her out of the safety of the townhouse, back to her apartment for god knows what, and suddenly – ooops, she falls and injures herself again? Is that about right?" the detective asked condescendingly.

At this, Grissom looked up and glared at Warrick. _I told you to guard her with your life._

"Look," started Warrick, his anger fueling his desire to throw this little man against the wall and shove that badge _where the sun don't shine_.

"Sara wanted to go to her apartment. I left to get her coffee. I was gone five minutes max. When I got back, I found her on the floor…" his statement was interrupted by a furious Grissom.

"You _left_ her? What, did you just drop her off and take a little drive? _I TOLD YOU TO STAY WITH HER._" he shouted red-faced, clenched fists slamming onto the arms of his chair.

"Griss…" Warrick began, but was cut off by Brass interrupting him.

"My phone rang…your cell…was that you phoning, 'Ric,…or maybe _Sara_ got ahold of your phone and tried to call for help?" asked the detective, his tone dripping with disgust.

"Brass," Warrick sighed, trying to regroup and regain control over the situation.

He was surprised when Brass turned and stalked out of the room. Nick followed, but Grissom just sat with his head leaning on his fist, index finger rubbing his lips in thought.

"This is not going well," Warrick thought as he closed his eyes, refusing to look at his boss.

Brass had stepped out, his plan was to phone the lab for an update on Sara. He was going to need _something_ to break this guy.

------------------------------------------------------

Sara and Doc were at a standstill. If Doc's figure had not blocked the exit, Sara would have followed after Warrick.

Her anger still apparent, Doc continued to talk soothingly, knowing she was in a heightened emotional state. He took her anger as being displaced onto him because of her attack.

"At least let me clean the blood off your ear, Sara. Let me just clean you up and take a look."

Sara's mind was reeling. She felt like she was in the middle of some ill-written fan fiction saga.

"I'll submit to an exam, to everything you want…but you _have_ to release Warrick. He did not lay a hand on me. He only wanted to _help_ me," Sara pleaded.

Doc continued to observe Sara and noticed her loyalty to her companion had not wavered.

"Sara…if he hurt you…" Doc began, only to be caught off guard as Sara rushed him, slamming her fists against his chest.

"NO! He didn't! Warrick. Never. Hurt. Me.! He wouldn't hurt me! He wouldn't…he…" she was running low on energy and the strength of her emotional outburst waned as she continued to pelt the doctor's chest in anger.

Doc grabbed Sara's wrist to prevent her from continuing her tirade. His trained eye spotted the new bruising – in the shape of a man's large handprint.

His eyes flew to Sara as he snapped, "Did Warrick give you these bruises?"

"Yes…but," was all Sara could get out before Doc released her and stormed over to his cell.

Before Brass could dial, the display on his phone indicated Doc was phoning him.

"Brass…" he intoned heavily, mind racing imagining Warrick looming over Sara, who was victim to his abuse.

"I was just on my way to call you, Al. What do we have?"

"Sara has large man's handprints imprinted on her wrists. She's admitted they are Warrick's. I have only done a cursory exam, but she has new bruising to her face…yeah, looks like open palmed contact…her ear's been bleeding, I don't know the extent…Okay…yeah, send a CSI down to start a file…right…uhuh…I'll keep you posted."

The phone shut, Doc turned around.

Sara was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the main hall, Sofia was seething.

_Brass just _had_ to come and spoil out nice little together time_, fumed Sofia.

_Not only _that_, but I have to process this whole hallway myself!_

_I wonder what was so all-fired important that they left in a squad car with full lights?_

_Hope it wasn't something to do with that little witch. Maybe I should call Andrew to find out what is happening._ With that she flipped open her phone and did just that.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Alerted by Sofia, Andrew began stalking the halls.

_Princess…where _are_ you?_ he mentally intoned in a childlike singsong manner.

That's when he saw her, limping slightly, but definitely motivated in her manner.

_Those legs…so long…so toned…so delectable…_his mouth watered at the mental image of Sara locked in an amorous position around his prone body.

He was within speaking distance. Andrew planned to block her path, perhaps letting her crash into him. _Her full body slamming in contact with mine_…

He reached out to deflect her movement around him…but suddenly he smashed heavily into a stunned Nick, himself making a beeline for Sara.

Nick was still getting his bearings when he realized Sara was moving to pass them as she huffed past them down towards the interrogation room.

"Sar…are you…" Nick reached out for her, but she pushed him away.

"Stay away from me, Nicky….where's Warrick!?" Sara hissed, although she was tiring and she secretly longed for an encouraging embrace.

"Sara, no! Sugar, not after what happened…" Nick moved forcefully towards her in an attempt to shield her from entering the hallway.

"Get off me, Nicky!" her anger was out of control and she actually felt a bit dizzy from her shouting.

"Sara…" he tried again, only to feel his movements thwarted by Andrew. In his haste to get to Sara, Nick had forgotten he was there. "Get off me, man. This does not concern you."

Andrew bristled at this. "The lady said to stay away for her. Perhaps _her_ business does not concern _you_…" Being new, he did not understand the close relationship between Nick and Sara.

At this minute, that was alright with Sara. She just needed to get to Warrick before he suffered any more on her account.

Nick shoved Andrew to make his point. While they were physically engaged, neither saw Sara continue on her way down the corridor.

Brass had returned. This was the part of the job he loved, when he had the suspect dead to rights.

But there was no joy in discovering Warrick's handprints had bruised Sara's wrists. When one of their own was involved in a travesty of justice, the sting was palpable and Brass felt it personally.

When someone hurt Sara, Brass took it _very _personally.

Warrick and Grissom had occupied the same room alone for over five minutes. Neither had uttered a word or exchanged a glance.

Gil was almost afraid to find out the truth, and Warrick was afraid Grissom wanted the _whole_ truth.

_Man…a lose-lose situation…_thought Warrick as Brass entered to prove that supposition correct.

"Ok, buddy. So you went to get coffee, found her abused, lying on the floor, you called me, and then brought her to see Doc, is that about right?"

"I told you, yes."

"And that is pretty much all that you remember happening?"

"Yes," Warrick answered, his internal radar pinging. _What do you _think _you know, Brass?_

"Oh…yeah…okay…there's just one thing, though," Brass added casually.

"How did _your_ handprint pattern wind up on _Sara's_ bruised wrists? Got an explanation for _that_?" barked Brass.

This piece of information brought Grissom to his feet.

Before him, his vision only detected a sea of red.

Inside him, the erratic rate of his pulse skyrocketing filled his ears.

He was on the move before anyone realized what was happening.

A stunned Warrick was pulled out of his chair and tossed to the ground.

Grissom stood over him screaming some obscenities as Brass and the guard were rushing forward.

The entire melee stopped as the door burst open and a very upset Sara Sidle screamed, "STOP IT!"

The sound of her voice brought the actions of all parties to a halt.

Their eyes roved her battered form, the hunch of her shoulders, the obvious discomfort of her gait, the bruising around her arms…and wrists…

Before they could react she was standing over Warrick, unable to kneel. She grabbed his hand, elevated in a defensive posture, to attempt to pull him up, when all the men who cared about her forgot their quarrels and went into protective mode.

"No…Sara…" "Sara, no, please…" "Honey…don't"

Grissom reached over for her, attempting to pull her into the safety of his arms. In his need to uncover the truth, he was embarrassed to admit he had not thought about how her injuries would present themselves.

He was sickened at the sight of the additional bruising, even more concerned about the dry blood caked on her left ear.

He was heart sick now, as she refused his embrace, pushing him away as she totally focused on protecting Warrick.

"Get _away_ from me! Get away from _him_! He didn't _do_ this. He didn't do _anything_ but help me. Get _away from him_!"

She was sobbing now, having thrown her body painfully down on her knees, trying to shield Warrick's tall frame from Grissom's anticipated abuse and Brass' angry stares.

Warrick wrapped his arms around her, trying to calm her, assuring her again that he was okay, she was okay now, it would all be okay, it was all over now, it was time to calm down…

At this point, he didn't care what image he was projecting, what Brass thought, or what Grissom believed.

He only wanted Sara's nightmare to be over. _If only he hadn't promised her_….

The stunned silence in the room continued, punctuated by Sara's purging sobs. She wanted to stop crying, to tell them all _again_ that Warrick did nothing wrong. But she was so tired, she was hurting, she was…scared.

_This will never be over…I don't know what to do…Griss…I'm so sorry…_her thoughts replayed over in her mind. Her feeling of helplessness fueled more tears.

As Sara's arms held him around his neck, the large purple handprints on both wrists were clearly visible to Brass and Grissom.

The evidence before them, though, painted a picture full of contrasts.

She had been grabbed and punched/slapped several times across the face.

-------------------------------------------------------- Warrick had no bruising on his own hands.

Sara was adamant that Warrick had not hurt her.

--------------------------------------------------It was possible their conclusion did not fit the evidence.

The handprints on her wrists were most likely Warrick's.

---------------------------------------------Abuse is only one way the bruising could have gotten there.

She had been attacked. Of that, there was no question.

-------------------------------------------------------- She was not afraid of Warrick.

By this time, Nick rushed into the room and stood speechless, taking in the scene.

As Sara calmed herself enough to speak, she wiped her eyes and tilted her head to stare into Grissom's glistening eyes.

"Gil…you said you trusted me…please trust me now…Warrick. Did. Not. Hurt. Me."

Those words hung in the air.

Grissom moved forward silently, holding out his arms for Sara to accept his embrace. With a glance to Warrick, she lifted her arms for Gil to gently bring her up into his waiting arms.

Once she was secure in his embrace, Gil turned towards Warrick.

He extended his hand, the offering symbolic of more than just a hand to get back on his feet.

Brass coughed, glancing away from Warrick as he tapped his finger absently on the table.

"Gil…we still need something else to go on…"

Sara turned in Gil's grip. She had been thinking about how to clear the suspicion surrounding her confidante.

"'Ric, did you get a receipt from the coffee shop?"

Warrick thought for a moment before reaching into this pants pocket, pulling out change from the coffee which contained the receipt. He handed it to Brass.

"Jim…your phone has a time stamp and so does the receipt. Don't those times prove that he went for coffee and then called you within the five minutes it would take him to reach my apartment?"

Brass took the time to check this new evidence. He clenched his jaw before returning her gaze.

"Your timeline checks out."

Everyone sighed. No one moved.

Sara was not finished. "Why did you think he would do this to me?"

Gil responded softly, "Sara…his handprints…the bruising on your wrists…"

"Was my own fault for being headstrong and him wanting to knock some sense into me…._not literally_," she amended her statement so as not to start this rollercoaster ride all over again.

Nick moved forward, guilt stabbing at his chest. He stood in front of his longtime partner, but couldn't find the words. "'Ric…" was all that came out.

Sara removed herself from Grissom's arms and stepped over to place a palm soothingly on both friends' backs. "I'm _so_ sorry…this _whole_ misunderstanding is my fault…I'm _so_ sorry…"

Immediately, they tried to soothe her. "_No_, Sara…" "Sara…it was _not _your fault…"

Sara hung her head. Nick and Warrick took in a deep breath and jutted out their chins.

"I should have waited for the evidence," Nick started.

"Hey…it's cool man…if I thought you had hurt Sara, I'd be all over you, too…." Warrick said. At this, Sara reached down to grasp his large hand with both of hers.

Brass was 95 per cent convinced that Warrick was innocent. He mentally decided to keep an eye on things for a while, to ease his occupational distrust of coincidences.

Gil moved closer to reclaim his grasp on Sara's waist, pulling her to him slightly.

"I think you've have enough excitement for one day. Let's go," he intoned softly.

Sara was a bit unwilling to release her hold on Warrick's hand. It had been quite the night. She wanted to be sure he was alright.

Warrick was also a bit unwilling to release his hands from Sara's touch. He, for one, would be glad to see the end of shift tonight. He just hoped Sara would be alright.

He knew she worried that his ordeal might change his mind about their agreement. In a final act of friendship, he leaned over for a gentle hug and whispered to her, "I _promise_."

Unfortunately for Sara, the angle of Warrick's head allowed Grissom to lip read Warrick's spoken vow.

_What the hell is happening here?_...Gil reacted, only to lose that thought as Sara returned to his embrace.

"Come on, honey, let's go visit Doc before we get you home," Gil said softly as he and Sara moved towards the door.

The guard and Nick followed them out, leaving Brass and Warrick alone.

Warrick wasted no time in confronting Brass, leaning down to face him eyeball-to-eyeball.

" _I. Would. Give. My. Life. For. Her."_

Brass blinked but remained silent.

"Remember that next time you have doubts."

With that, he stood tall and walked out the door to go home.

-------------------------------------------------

With minimal arguing, Sara agreed to return to the morgue with Gil as she had to admit she was hurting.

On the way, they passed Andrew in the hallway.

Sara broke away from Gil and approached him, introducing herself.

_That smile_, thought Andrew, moving the file in his hands lower to hide his body's reaction to her proximity.

"I just wanted to say thanks for helping me before. You're Andrew, right?" Sara continued.

_I love the way my name sounds rolling off your lips...those lips…_thought Andrew only half aware of her continued talking.

"I look forward to you coming back to work, Sara. I think we have the makings for a great relationship," Andrew beamed, assured that he and Sara had differing ideas on what type that relationship might be.

"Sara," Gil said a bit more forcefully, regaining his hold on her waist. "We'd better get going."

"Bye…Andrew," said Sara in a genuinely friendly tone.

"See you soon….Sara," intoned Andrew, holding the folder closer to his body, keenly aware that he was now in immediate need of a venue for his release.

----------------------------------------

He opened the door to the townhouse.

She smiled tiredly at the sight before her.

There on the end table in the foyer stood a medium-sized mother of pearl vase full of fresh flowers beginning to push past their prime.

Nestled on each of this baker's dozen of fragrant blooms was a colorful butterfly, uniformly pulsing their wings in time.

As this night began, she had spoken to them tenderly, telling them she was going out and would be back in a short time.

Sara couldn't help but think they were "tapping their toes", wondering where she had been.

This tiny event brought sudden tears to her eyes.

She had been gone.

They had missed her.

She turned her gaze to Gil puttering in the kitchen wanting to make her some tea before she took that doctor-recommended long soak in that luxurious master bath.

He loved her enough to trust her, to believe her about Warrick, even when his always-trusty evidence pointed to another conclusion.

He loved her.

She felt safe here.

She was _home_.

As Sara reflected on the new reality of the comforts and safety a real home could bring, little did she know that events were unfolding that would jeopardize her new-found feelings of peace.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Thanks for the many reviews. Your support really encourages me to continue. These two just have me shaking my head. Look for the next update whenever. You are still terrific! –Kathy

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The blender swirled the fruit and ice cream through the orange juice.

As he watched these separate, unrelated ingredients mixing thoroughly together to create a new, more nutritious drink, he thought about his life, and about his Sara.

_She and I. We're like two separate, unrelated ingredients who found our way together in this crazy mixed-up world._

_Standing _alone_, our lives have meaning…but are …one dimensional. Our _work_ defines us._

_But _togethe_r…we are joined to create something…infinitely more wonderful._

_Our _love_ defines us._

He smiled. Just as quickly, it was replaced with a sigh.

She didn't want to talk about it. _Any_ of it. Not with _him_, anyway.

But _Warrick_ knew.

_I promise…_

The words haunted him.

Jealousy flared a bit in him, but he tamped it down with a firm resolve and moved to finish his current task. _He_ was here with Sara. She wanted to be with _him. _She was in _his _bed.

She was asleep…just waiting for _him_ to kiss her awake.

Gil carried a small tray containing her healthy snack and headed towards the bedroom.

Upon arriving, he was startled by the scene before him.

He had left her alone in their bed, but she was no longer alone when he returned.

Each corner post, the headboard, and footboard of the king-sized sleeping area was covered in multi-hued fluttering wings.

As if on sentry duty, Sara's protectors had continued the supervision which they had begun upon her return earlier in the day.

His movements towards the bed caused those in his path to move away in order to admit him, while they merely alighted on a different area surrounding where their princess lay.

He leaned forward to leave a trail of soft kisses on her cheeks and neck.

She jerked awake, wide eyes moving wildly from left to right, seeking validation that she was indeed safe.

He stroked her hair lovingly as he whispered softly:

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

She relaxed and smiled at him sleepily. "I love when you recite Shakespeare to me."

He kissed her gently, and replied whisper-close to lips, "I know. You told me."

He helped her sit up. She winced but said nothing as he plumped some pillows behind her.

He handed her the tray, refusing to submit when she balked at consuming the much needed nourishment.

"Sweetheart, if you finish this quickly, I will draw us another hot bath."

That did the trick.

She loved soaking up to her neck in steamy water, the jets creating a soothing whirlpool.

She loved feeling that wonderful warmth even more when she was resting against him, feeling totally and wonderfully protected in his strong embrace.

She took a sip through the straw, not letting him know how painful it was to use the drinking aid as her face was slightly swollen from the attack.

"Thanks, that was good," she smiled slightly, moving to set the drink back on the end table.

"_But_…it isn't _finished_…" he smiled slightly, moving her hands _back_, towards her lap.

She sighed and moved the drink back toward her mouth, sidestepping the straw.

The action was not lost on him.

"Mouth hurt much?" he queried gently. It was the first reference that he had made to the previous night's events.

She was quick to shake her head, sure she heard marbles rolling around in the back of her neck as she did so. Sara was desperate to stall the inevitable confrontation as long as possible.

However, Gil Grissom was a renowned interrogator, not easily dissuaded.

"Sara…" he started, but she was handing him the drink. She needed more time.

"Gil…I really need to lay back down..." she said, sincerely this time, as her injuries were aching and her heart was breaking at the memory of her dilemma.

He noticed the sincerity in her actions, and asked aloud if she might like to reconsider and let Doc do a more thorough exam than she allowed last evening.

Sara had already closed her eyes and again shook her head quickly.

But to herself, she thought, _I don't want to _talk_ right now…to _anyone_…_she resolved, settling her head deeper into the comfort of the pillows.

He watched her for a long minute.

_I love her._

_I love taking care of her._

_I want to spend my whole life loving her…just as she says she has always loved me, and _only _me._

_Let me help you, Sara,…my love…._

_Tell me about you and…Warrick…_

_Talk to me…please talk to me…_

He took her hand. "How about that nice long soak?"

His heart sang when he was greeted with the special smile Sara reserved only for him.

It had been far too long since he had seen it.

It made him happy that his efforts to comfort her were meeting with approval.

"I'll just be a little bit…" he said softly.

Sara's gaze drifted over the room before she closed her eyes again.

_This is my _home

_Filled with the sounds of Grissom on the other side of the closed door to the master bath, adding water to that blessed vessel of relief._

_Filled with the smell of the vanilla and peach candles that stood unburned, but added a light fragrance to the air._

_Filled with the sights of our butterflies perched on the bedding, the fresh flowers he had placed on the dresser, the shadowy figure at the door…_

_Wait…No!..._

Before she could move, he was upon her.

She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound.

He was holding her down, hand clamped over her mouth.

He was reeking of scotch … and lust.

He was touching her, reaching under the blanket…NO!

She managed to free her trapped mouth from under the pressure of his large hands.

She was screaming his name, pleading with him, begging him…

"Grissom! Please! Help me! Please! I need you! GRISSOM!"

The pressure lightened under her screams.

Her eyes remained defiantly shut against having to relive the horror of seeing his sickly grin.

He was pulling her frantically to him, telling her to calm down, to relax, that no one was going to hurt her.

_But you already did hurt me! _Sara's mind screamed as her body's adrenaline rushed to make her defense more powerful than before.

"Get _off_ me, you _bastard_!" Sara screamed. "Not _again_! Take your filthy hands _off _me!"

She continued to battle for her life, screaming for Grissom's help.

Her hands were subdued at her sides once again, but she kept squirming. She wasn't going to let this happen again without knowing she did all she could to defend herself.

The phone was ringing in the distance. "Help me!" she cried, as if the caller could hear through the unopened device.

"SARA!"

She could hear Grissom calling her. He was here. He would save her. He would release her from this death grip the shadowy figure had on her.

He would protect her.

She could relax now.

He was right here.

She was safe…

Somewhere deep inside her, an awareness was spawned that those last four sentiments were not her personal realizations, but rather…a repetition of words she was hearing being spoken from out there somewhere.

Her body relinquished the struggle, as her exhausted form tried to absorb the huge amounts of oxygen infusing her body from her deep breathing.

She slowly opened her eyes.

The figure was gone.

There was only Grissom leaning over her, as he was weighing down her hands along her sides, as he continued speaking softly and soothingly, as his mind and heart were reeling at her outbursts, as his concern was showing in those blue depths as they swept over her, as he was reassuring her with his repeated phrases:

_I will protect you, Sara…You can relax now…I am right here…You are safe, honey…._

When he was reasonably assured she had returned to him, he let go of her hands and moved to sit next to her, his back against the headboard.

He pulled her nearly weightless form easily onto his lap, soothing her with kisses, and rubbing her back lightly in small circles.

"Bad dream," she finally offered after lengthy minutes of labored breathing.

"Horrifying _nightmare_," he countered, wanting her to know he would be here to listen to the details of the events that brought on the night terror.

"You know, I _am_ a very good listener, honey…" he added, hoping she would have her defenses lowered enough to create a reachable moment.

"Thanks, Gil…" was her only response, hoping he would have his radar lowered enough to not push for any additional revelations at this moment.

When their heart rates returned to somewhat normal, he stood and lifted her off the bed.

As he carried her towards the master bath, she furrowed her brows as she looked toward the empty doorway.

Then her heart broke a bit as she glanced upwards.

Her nightmare had caused all of her two-winged guardians to seek refuge over the door. Perched on the thick decorative moulding, she counted eleven butterflies nervously fluttering over the entryway.

_I frightened them…I frightened Gil…_she sighed.

_I am frightened too…I need him so…and I can lose all this … if he…_

Sara moved her head farther into the comfort of his chest.

The door to the master bathroom was kicked close, slamming a bit loudly.

A lone, two-toned blue butterfly swiftly moved into position, taking up his post over that entrance.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

He had just helped her disrobe and was beginning to shed his own active wear when the blare of his cell phone permeated the air.

She smiled and said, "Didn't it ring before? Maybe you should check it. Might be important."

He continued to reach for the hem of his sweatshirt, outwardly ignoring the ringing summons and Sara's urging.

Inwardly, however…he wondered if Pavlov would have been better off using CSI's instead of dogs for his favorite salivating experiment. The results, while turning out the same, would have also been tabulated and submitted with evidentiary support.

She reached over forcefully and eyed him seriously. "Gilbert Grissom…answer your phone!"

_She is so cute when she worries about me._ "Yes, my dear," he bowed low in a courtly gesture which brought a smile to Sara's eyes, transforming her stern countenance into a suppressed grin.

"I'll just start without you," she said, moving towards the tub.

He eyed her before turning, realizing it had been too long since he had made love to her.

As he strode purposely out of the bedroom, he was already prioritizing his day.

_Making love to Sara_ was at the top of his list.

He reached the phone as it rang again, and looked at the display.

_SOFIA._

He glanced over his shoulder and depressed the ACCEPT button, making his way swiftly through the kitchen area. He opened the door to the den, closing it behind him as he answered in a low voice, "Grissom."

Sofia sighed inwardly at his masculine timbre. She decided to relate the information in her special "business provocative" voice.

Listening to the honeyed tones, he should have been writing down the information to the scene. Instead, he was distracted by his thoughts about Sofia.

"Listen, Sofia…uh…why don't you just get to the lab and wait for me…uh…we can ride out together. What do you say?"

Sofia was delighted beyond words. Her three-stage plan seemed to working out perfectly.

She believed her conniving had gotten her a promotion that by rights should have been Sara's job.

She had not spoken to Ecklie since the "incident" and still believed she helped keep Sara out of the lab for the next two weeks.

She believed that she was becoming Grissom's go-to girl, replacing the person widely regarded as holding that honor – one _Sara Sidle_.

_Grissom, you can 'go to' see me_ anytime, Sofia gloated, primping herself in her cheval mirror before sauntering out the door.

_Mustn't keep him waiting._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------_

He stood there with the phone in his hand for what seemed like ages.

He was missing Sara already.

How was he going to tell her he was called in?

He didn't want to go. But this was something he couldn't put off.

He trudged heavily through the townhouse until he stood outside the bathroom.

Gil quietly slid the door partially open, just staring at her.

She was neck high in water, having craned her neck slightly so she looked classically elegant.

Her eyes were closed, her relaxation aided by the soft whirr of the jets.

She was beautiful.

And he was leaving her…again.

He sighed softly, bringing her out of her restful state.

When she turned to him, she saw he was conflicted. A seasoned CSI, she knew their shared bath was now just a dream.

Attempting to put him at ease, she smiled evenly and said, "I will be _fine_."

"Sara," he started, but stammered as he always did around her when he couldn't find the words to relate his true feelings for her.

"I don't want you to be alone. Maybe…"

_Maybe what? Come with me? That could ruin things with Sofia._

_Stay at the lab? Have everyone gawking and whispering about you?_

_Maybe…what???_

_How did my life get so complicated?_

She sat up painfully, worried about his obviously conflicted feelings.

"Gil, go! I will be fine! If I need anything I will just call Warrick. He has tonight off and-"

"NO!" Gil barked, his reaction confusing her.

She knitted her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want…I would rather you called someone else…" He knew he was digging his own hole.

Sara was about to hand him another shovel.

"And what if _I_ want Warrick to come over?" Sara Sidle was _definitely_ not used to having to get permission to live _her_ life as _she _saw fit.

He grimaced. He told himself she just wasn't understanding his need to … protect her.

_I promise._

Not Warrick. Not this time.

Grissom just didn't want him anywhere near her right now.

Not when he was unsure how long this case would keep him in the field.

He was not used to these feelings of jealousy now surging out of control, screaming at him to lock her up in a tower to keep her safe until _he_ could return to serve as her "protector".

_He _wanted to be the one she ran to when she needed to talk about her nightmares.

_He_ wanted to be the only one she _needed_ to make her feel…safe.

He knew he wasn't being rational.

He knew he could trust her.

He knew this situation was giving him a migraine.

Tired of waiting for a reply, Sara was also tired…too tired to argue.

"Forget it," she said hotly, closing her eyes and trying to regain her state of composure.

Her heart was now hurting as much as her head.

"Sara..." he tried calmly, but she was having none of it.

"Just go…if you're going…_GO!_" she shouted, the moisture appearing behind her closed eyelids.

He made a move towards her, but she angrily turned on her side so that her back was to him.

Gil gave in to her demands. He turned on his heel and pulled the door shut behind him, not in anger but more in an effort to keep the draft off her damp body.

Instead, under the force of his pent up emotions, the door slammed shut. Sara took that as an indication of his mood, the unexpected action making her fearful, as she had never really seen him _that_ animated when he was angry.

Deep down, it opened a small fearful memory of other slammed doors. She became uneasy.

She wished they could be in their Better Place.

This place was starting to remind her too much of her _childhood _home.

-------------------------------------------------------

By the time he had reached the kitchen he was already regretting the entire exchange. He turned swiftly on his heels, retracing his steps.

When he got to the bedroom, twelve sets of angry antennae twitched in his direction from their overhead perches.

He placed his hand on the doorknob, but it didn't move.

_She locked the door. _

_How am I going to make this better? _

_I need to talk to her. _

_She just needs some time to cool off. _

_I'll call her later, apologize, and we'll talk._

He placed a kiss on his palm and laid it softly on the door. _Be safe, my love._

He left the bedroom, gathered his kit, and softly closed the front door as he exited.

Meanwhile, Sara continued to calm down, trying to think of all the rational reasons they had just had their first fight as a couple.

_It was just a fight. _

_Couples fight all the time._

_I heard make-up sex is really something._

This brought a smile to her face, quickly replaced by a sigh.

_How am I going to make this better? _

_I need to talk to him. _

_He just needs some time to cool off. _

_I'll call him later, apologize, and we'll talk._

Unbeknownst to her, the door to the master bath had been closed so infrequently that time had weakened the old style lock. Gil's action had caused a loosened part of the mechanism to misfire, causing the knob to set itself in the lock position.

An antique, there was no key available.

--------------------------------------------------

Catherine was stirring her coffee counterclockwise…a sure sign that she was fuming.

She had noticed Sofia waiting smugly near Grissom's office. When he first entered the building, she had moved towards him, greeting him in that sickeningly animated style that men usually found seductive.

To Catherine, that action made her head for the anti-nausea drops.

"This is not good, gentlemen," Catherine said thoughtfully as she tapped her teeth with the coffee stirrer.

Nick tried hard not to look in her direction. Remembering the meeting at Grissom's house, he recalled the supervisor's stern warning to keep their discussion between the three of them.

He wished Warrick was working tonight. He had a knack for keeping Catherine's thoughts occupied.

"Grissom is getting sucked in to her little web…and she is going to suck the life out of him and spit him out." she said with her own venom exposed.

Nick wanted to argue, but kept silent.

The scene unfolding in the corridor also got the attention of other eyes.

Dark eyes, disturbingly narrowed, stared as Sofia and Grissom left together towards their assignment.

"Well, well, well…I see that Sofia has managed to catch herself a big one. Looks like it is time for me to see about catching the minnow he has cast back into the sea."

Recalling that Sara was still on medical leave, the figure moved to lock his door and move towards the exit.

"Ready for some fun, my dear Sara?" sneered Ecklie as he approached his vehicle and set out towards Sara's apartment.

-------------------------------------------------

Warrick had been stretched out on his couch for over an hour.

He kept replaying the events in his head.

Sara on the ground, injured.

Sara in the morgue, mouthing "I'm sorry."

Sara in the interrogation room, shielding him from their inquisition.

Sara smiling up at him as he renewed his promise to her.

Sara.

He knew nothing had changed.

She was still in danger from that degenerate Ecklie.

He recalled the night that started it all.

_After shift, he had gone to the local haunt to grab a beer after a particularly upsetting case._

_A vicious assault/murder of a young mother with two young children. Domestic abuse case._

_He was not too surprised to find Sara there, obviously having had a few already._

_She had worked the case with him, and although she was dogged in her determination to nail the husband, ultimately he had walked for lack of evidence._

_The D.A. was considering it an active file, but for all intents and purposes they had done all they could and came up empty handed._

_  
Grissom had told them, "Sometimes they just get away."_

_Sara had stormed out of the lab, leaving a worried Grissom in her wake._

"Even then," Warrick chuckled to himself, "even then we should have seen the handwriting on the wall where those two were concerned."

_Seated in a booth, he heard a man's charming tone inviting Sara to join him._

_She looked tired, she looked overworked, she looked tipsy, she looked like someone in need of…companionship._

_So it didn't surprise him when he watched her accept the offer._

_Loosening up a bit, Warrick became engaged with some of the regulars, discussing odds and point spreads when he looked up. He became a little unnerved when he realized that charming tone had belonged to... Ecklie._

_Warrick couldn't take his eyes off them. Ecklie was supporting an uncharacteristically wobbly-legged brunette._

'_That isn't going to help, Sara,' he had thought to himself, wincing from the memories of many such hangovers._

_He had glanced back casually over his shoulder one final time, when he noticed Sara's open hand pushing Ecklie's chest unsteadily._

_They cleared the entryway out into the night air, as Warrick had returned to his conversation._

_The picture stayed with him, though, replaying in the fuzzy awareness of his slightly tipsy state._

_The TV was showing a repeat of the local news, giving air time to an interviewed woman who had been attacked early that evening._

_Although the sound was almost off, he could tell the woman was demonstrating how he had approached her from behind, pinning her arms, and how she had tried to push him away with her open palms…_

_Warrick now was on high alert, sitting more erect, replaying Sara's exit scene as he did when contextualizing evidence at a scene._

_He had developed an uneasy feeling._

_Paying his tab, he almost rushed out of the bar, looking west and then east for any sign of Sara._

_He decided to calm down, but his conscience insisted that he at least drive by Sara's apartment to make sure she got home alright. He found himself compelled to drive a bit faster than he normally would._

_By the time he reached her building, he saw what looked like Ecklie and Sara just entering the building. For all outward appearances, she was fine. There was suddenly a lone light in Sara's window, but not movement could be detected from the street. _

_He decided he needed to see her, face to face, just to reassure himself that she was indeed safe._

_Warrick sighed. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had not reached her when he did…._

He stood quickly, not wanting to continue this walk down Memory Lane anymore.

He decided he needed to see Sara right now, face to face, just to reassure himself that she _still _was safe, settled in comfortably at the townhouse.

And with that, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: You remain terrific!. Your feedback in your reviews really helps to shape the details of this story. I had the ideas for the beginning and the end, but the middle had several rewrites. Hope I did their story justice. Next update whenever…it is going to be a busy week, so I made this chapter a bit longer…thanks for staying with this story! These two continue to inspire…-Kathy

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Warrick arrived at the townhouse to see lights on, indicating she was inside.

He wasn't too concerned when he knocked the first two times, after all in her physical state, Sara would need some time to maneuver herself to the door.

His patience began to wane when he knocked for the third time and received no reply.

The fourth round of knocks was interspersed with his attempts to reach her by phone.

Her cell went directly to voicemail, and the landline continued to ring until the machine recording sang in his ear.

Finished with knocking, he pounded and called her name, but received no reply.

He ran his large hand over his face.

Trying to figure out if Sara was okay with bothering Brass or Doc, Warrick was in such deep thought that he found himself staring at the decorative tiles spelling out the numerical address next to Grissom's front door.

Four tiles with a large numeral followed by a tile with a picture of an Arabian horse.

_That's so Grissom…loves the classics…Arabian horses, Arabian knights…_

He stopped his ruminating and paid closer attention to the tile. It was secured differently than the others, looking…newer…and definitely a different material than the number tiles.

_Oh, Griss…could you really be _that_ poetic?...Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves…Open Sesame!..._

Warrick's hand firmly grasped the tile which detached itself easily in his hand, revealing a hollowed space with a spare key safely enclosed.

He smiled at the irony, replaced the tile and let himself into the townhouse shouting for Sara.

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"Let's stop and get a bite to eat, shall we?" Grissom asked suavely.

They had finished with their evaluation of the scene and collection of the evidence, and were on their way back to the lab.

Sofia gave Grissom a delighted smile, removed the rubber band holding back her golden locks, and shook her head quickly to allow her hair to frame her face softly.

"Sounds…wonderful…"

"I know this great little Italian restaurant a bit away from the strip. It's…cozy…"

"Sounds…perfect…"

-------------------------------------------------------

Warrick was calling Sara's name again, having checked the den and finding it empty. He stood still, contemplating his next move, when from a distance he could hear – was that _swearing_?

He bounded up the stairs and pushed open the door to the bedroom.

Immediately, he felt more than heard tiny fluttering assaulting his hair and neck. Dodging them with the skill of boxer, they nonetheless continued to pester him.

Not wanting to injure these fragile creatures, he started blowing on them – hard – to release their grip on his curly strands and his jacket front.

All the while, he could hear Sara swearing and calling for help on the other side of the door.

"Sara!" Warrick called, trying to turn the doorknob.

"Warrick!...I…I…can't…budge…this…knob…" as the antique brass continued to shake from the vibrations on the other side.

"Sara…let go and let me give it a try."

Warrick was so intense on helping release Sara from her prison that he failed to notice the attack of the winged protectors had ceased with the sound of Sara's frustrated, but not fearful, voice on the other side.

Had he looked upwards, he would have seen two antennae focused down on him.

"No can do, m'lady. How do you feel about removing these hinges?"

"Well, we've certainly done that before," Sara laughed lightly, thinking about another case where explosives were hidden inside a closet and Sara had been insistent that they remove the door full of evidence before the entire house was leveled.

She tried to keep her voice light, despite still feeling a bit claustrophobic at being unable to leave the large bath area.

"I think Gil has a set of tools in the den," Sara continued, happy to have someone here with her.

Upon retrieving the tools, Warrick began to work on the recessed hinges. He was worried about Sara as he didn't know how long she had been held prisoner there.

He was remembering a time when she freaked out whenever she had to work in a closet or under a bed, but he smiled when he remembered that she never asked to be removed from the assignment although it would clearly unnerve her. It became one of those unspoken rules among the guys that _they_ worked the small spots when they worked with Sara.

"So…Sara…" He began, hoping conversation would take her mind off being trapped in there.

"What do you think happened here?"

"It must have happened when Gris-, when the door was closed after I got into the tub," was all she would say, hoping he didn't want to know anymore. She was already despondent about their fight. Even more so that the object of their disagreement was standing on the other side of the door.

Warrick knew many things about Sara. He knew when to let things slide. He changed the subject.

"Hey, you feeling a little cooped up in there?" he laughed loudly so she would hear the teasing in his voice.

"Actually…." she laughed aloud, joining him.

"How about I finish springing you from this place, and we grab a bite?" Warrick knew that Sara had not been out in a while, and he wanted his friend to relax and unwind after the events of the last few days.

Warrick continued to work the tools quickly, his expertise having almost finished the job.

"Sounds…wonderful…" Sara said. Thoughts of her last conversation with Grissom popped into her head.

"I know this great little Italian restaurant a bit away from the strip. It's…quiet…no one will bother us, so you can dress comfortably…and they have a great jazz combo playing tonight."

"Sounds…perfect…" Sara smiled.

Warrick had made quick work of the door, and Sara gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "My hero!"

They laughed and Sara found a lone two-toned butterfly had taken up residence on her shoulder.

Eleven other pairs of antennae, however, pulsed uniformly as they remained perched over the decorative moulding of the entrydoor.

He left the room, leaving Sara to change from her robe into a comfortable black velour jumpsuit. She wore her hair down and curly, dispensed with the makeup, slipped on comfortable matching sandals and joined Warrick downstairs.

She decided to leave the porch light off and the living room lights on.

_If Gil decides to drive by, I don't want to upset him by letting him know I was out…with Warrick._

However, before she went completely through the door, she whipped around sharply, gathered paper and pen, and wrote him a quick note saying where they were headed and that if he got home before her to please wait up for her as she wanted, no _needed_, to talk with him.

_If Gil decides to come in and check on me, I don't want to upset him by not knowing where I am._

She decided not to include the information about her dinner companion in the note.

_No sense stirring up a tempest and making him stew. I'll tell him all about it later._

With a quick glance around, she waved secretly at her two-winged companion now perched on her note.

"See you in a bit," she whispered as she turned and locked the door.

Warrick told her they had to make one stop at the lab for him to grab his lighter jacket from his locker.

Pulling into the parking lot, they could not have known Ecklie had been seated in his car, obsessed with the fact that Sara was neither at home nor at the lab.

"Well, well, well…Warrick…_again_…" he snarled aloud, this time following them towards the restaurant at a discrete distance.

---------------------------------------------------------

When they entered the restaurant the jazz combo was just setting up to begin their second set. Grissom requested a table for two overlooking the small moonlit lake at the bottom of the hill.

They talked about the case for a minute or two before the waitress took their drink orders.

Grissom ordered Sofia her usual SexOnTheBeach, even though they technically were still on the clock.

She was delighted he remembered her preference from their early dinner date.

He not only remembered her preference, he shuddered slightly as he also remembered how quickly that concoction had loosened her tongue and her …inhibitions.

When she chided him for not ordering a drink, he laughed and countered that he was the "designated driver".

After a sip, Sofia shook out the kinks in her neck, allowing those blonde curls to cascade luxuriously over her shoulders.

Grissom could not take his eyes off hers.

After a while, they ordered dinner – and another drink for Sofia.

"This is very nice, just being able to talk to you, away from the lab…" she smiled genuinely into his baby blue eyes.

"You have no idea…" smiled Grissom in return.

During their salads, Grissom began asking Sofia how she was liking her new responsibilities.

"You know," he started casually, "I was away when the whole restructuring occurred," he continued, waving his fork and knife in small circles above his plate for emphasis.

Sofia put down her fork, pushed away her half-eaten salad, and decided to concentrate on her drink instead. Gil made eye contact with the waitress and with a hand gesture ordered her another.

She leaned forward.

"It was _so_ amazing. Things just started happening. Finding that evidence on the clothes like that, was _so amazing_," she slurred slightly.

Grissom pouted slightly, biting the inside of his lower lip, while trying to maintain his smile.

"I agree. I always thought my team was very thorough. Especially Sara.Boy, she turned out to be a real disappointment to me."

Inwardly, he winced. It was painful to even bring her name into this conversation, let alone say those things to this vile person in front of him.

"OOOOh, but she is, she _is extremely _thorough," laughed Sofia, using a tone that indicated she was keeping a delicious secret.

"Ah, Sofia, you are being modest. She missed the boat totally when it came to that evidence. But you-" he pointed with his salad fork, "_you_ were able to crack that case wide open."

Sofia sat back, throwing her chin in the air, enjoying this conversation.

"Would you do me a favor, Sofia?" he leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial tone.

The blonde leaned forward seductively and positioned one shoulder forward of the other, leaning on her elbows with her drink perched dangerously close to the area of her cleavage.

"I would do any numbers of favors for you, Gil," she answered huskily.

He leaned forward, putting down his utensils and reaching over for her hand, dazzling her with his best Grissom smile.

"Would you tell me how you uncovered the evidence that Sa-, that my team missed?"

He leaned forward a bit more, gazing into her eyes.

"I _really_ would like to know." he said in a deep tone that sent Sofia over the edge.

Sofia had shivers. She wanted this man.

Her inhibitions gone, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and began to unravel a tale about how _she_ had gotten the box, and _she_ had done this, and _she_ had done that, and suddenly, like magic, she just _found_ it, and there you had it.

Gil took a mental side trip, remembering the last time the Sheriff had wanted to commend Sara for finding evidence critical to arresting a killer who would have otherwise walked.

When asked how she uncovered the crucial evidence, she led the Sheriff down a verbal trail of what Nick had contributed, how Greg had rushed the DNA tests, how Catherine had worked solo to allow Warrick to revisit the crime scene and collect more samples. Gil always remembered that day, because the Sheriff had not even realized Sara concluded her tale, while never having included _her_ personal contribution in her response. Sara was all about _team_.

And Sofia was about _Sofia_.

Gil sat back, resuming his role of active listener, while commenting,

"You were lucky to even _find _the trace elements on that evidence. Sara usually isn't very neat about packing up things, especially when she's frustrated…"

"_Really_? I thought the evidence was very well arranged." She took another sip gulping hard to continue.

"When I first opened the box, there were papers, neatly written, then the clothing was folded and marked…_no, Gil_," she said seductively, leaning over the table, her breasts displacing her cup from its saucer. She tapped his nose as if he were just the most adorable little teddy bear… "Nope, you really can't say that about Sara _this time_…" she concluded, in a singsong voice.

"Sofia…you are truly amazing. You deserve this promotion. It's obvious Sara just doesn't have what it takes to be a lead materials analyst."

Sofia grinned widely, and a bit more seductively. She shook her finger clumsily in front of his face, while balancing her glass with the other.

"Oh…I would _never_ want Sara to work with _anyone_ _else_. I promise you, she will come in _very_ handy to me on the big cases…" as she took a final swig from her glass.

Grissom gritted his teeth and forced a smile.

His theory had been correct.

He needed one more bit of information.

"Well, I don't know if Ecklie would agree with you," he countered playfully, again reaching for her hand to feel her pulse point. In the absence of a lie detector…

"Mmm…don't worry about Ecklie," Sofia began while swallowing the last of her crushed ice.

"I can handle _him_."

She reached over, not able to take her eyes off of his. "I can handle a _lot_ of things."

_Thank you, Sofia…_Grissom sighed inwardly. Now he had enough detail to send the team back in for a clandestine search for the missing paperwork, and a fresh look at that evidence to see if there was a way to prove it had been Sara's discovery all along.

And so they sat. Grissom still with his hands wrapped around her pulse point, smiling into Sofia's rather drunken gaze, delighted with himself that his ruse had worked.

_Gotcha!_

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When they entered the restaurant the strains of a jazz combo's final number of the second set greeted them. Sara thought about Grissom's music collection in the townhouse.

She smiled thinking about sitting with him, his arms lovingly around her, wordlessly relaxing in front of the gas fireplace in his… in _their…_ living room.

She was suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to see him and set things straight after the way they had parted earlier in the evening.

Sara forgot that her mother always said _you should be careful what you wish for_…

-------------------------------------------------

Sitting in his car under a broken streetlight, Ecklie fumed as he saw Sara enter the eating establishment with Warrick.

_Always in the way, aren't you…Sara's little protector…but I can be patient…_

He downed some Scotch from his flask and thought of ways to get Sara alone.

------------------------------------------------

Her heart had stopped beating.

_He's…holding her hand. She's…staring into his eyes, smiling _that_ smile. He…_

Sara gulped back a cry of anguish.

_He's smiling back._

She was unaware that Warrick was finishing his sentence, while his eyes were still on his menu.

When he looked up, she quickly glanced down into her own menu which was large enough to obscure most of her distress.

His investigator instincts went into work mode immediately.

He turned in the direction of her last eye contact. Through the sea of movement presenting itself before him, he found the sight that had cruelly overtaken her attention.

Warrick steamed.

_Griss is here with Sofia? _

_Man…you aren't _collecting evidence_…_

_you are _cheating _on Sara…with _Sofia?

_Your clever plan churning out a different ending, is it? _

_You are going to hurt Sara, again, aren't you? _

_Gil Grissom…when I get my hands on you…_you are dead man!

Anger seeping through every pore for the betrayal and hurt visited upon Sara when she needed Grissom most, Warrick turned and breathed out heavily, "Sara…"

She lowered the menu, folding it calmly. A casual observer would have noticed no change in her demeanor.

But when he looked into her eyes, he saw a defeated look that chilled him to the bone.

"Sara…don't jump to conclusions…he…"

But Sara's jaw set stopped him from continuing.

Setting her shoulders back and lifting her chin defiantly, she pursed her lips in thought for a nanosecond before grabbing her purse. Without looking at him, she choked, "I'm leaving."

Warrick had wanted to ask her to calm down.

He wanted to guide her back into her seat.

He wanted to talk to her about all the reasons Grissom could be with Sofia.

He wanted to tell her that running away wasn't going to solve anything.

But in the shock of her jumping to her feet and starting her turn towards the door, all he could think to do was block her exit, stop her from leaving when she was so upset.

Instinctively, he grabbed her arm forcefully.

In their quiet corner, their interaction was unnoticed by most of the restaurant patrons and staff.

But the sudden movement in the darkened corner had caught Grissom's attention just as he dropped his gaze from Sofia, having sought out their waitress for ask for the check.

He had wanted to get home to talk to his Sara.

He had a _lot _of apologizing to do.

The waitress had come to the table and he had just started speaking when he began focusing on the pair. Turning his full attention to the couple in the corner, his speech slowed as his mouth hung open.

_Sara? Here with _Warrick?

Unfortunately for Warrick, Grissom chose to pay attention at the exact moment he grabbed onto Sara's arm.

Grissom's head had trouble wrapping itself around the images bombarding his vision.

_Was he _actually_ sitting here, watching Sara being manhandled? By Warrick??_

Had_ there been something to Doc's suspicions the other night?_

Warrick's action caused Sara to spin around and fight for her freedom from his grasp.

Again, good intentions do not always effect desired behaviors.

To stop her from creating a scene that might draw Grissom's attention to her, Warrick had wanted to guide her back into the booth to get her to calm down.

Instead his efforts required greater strength than he expected, as Sara was a formidable opponent.

Almost having to throw her into the booth, he attempted to sit next to her, but now Sara was having none of it. She started to raise her hands to push him out of her way.

He reacted by grabbing both her wrists, careful not to re-injure the area, to stop her from hurting herself.

Careful as he was, this action made her wince from the prolonged contact with her bruises.

So from where Grissom was watching stupefied, he had seen Warrick grab Sara's arm, wrestle with her to prevent her from leaving, push her back into the booth, attempt to again prevent her from leaving, and grab her wrists painfully.

Grissom was out of his seat like a shot.

By now, Warrick had released her from his grip, and was about to put his arm around her shaking shoulders when he felt the force of Hercules yank him by the collar and out of his seat, landing painfully on the floor.

"Stay the hell away from her, Warrick!" Grissom bellowed, attracting the attention of several patrons and a shocked Sofia.

"So…this cozy little dinner part of your "_great plan_"?" Warrick sneered, nodding in Sofia's direction. "Because, I don't remember hearing about _this_ part."

Without responding, Grissom turned toward Sara, who could not bring herself to look upon him.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, his heart racing.

Moving towards her slowly, Grissom found his movement thwarted by Warrick's hands slamming down on the table to block his approach.

Warrick began to get up, pulling himself to his knees, when his own anger surfaced, "What's the matter, Griss? Afraid someone's going to break in to your territory? I figured after tonight, there was enough to go around…"

The stars stopped him from continuing.

Although Warrick could tower over him and perhaps outdo him at most physical contests, an angry and jealous Grissom packed a powerful punch.

Massaging his jaw, Warrick chuckled disgustedly.

"You _really are_ a piece of work, Grissom. A real knight in shining armor, defending your lady love. Only, I need a score card, 'cause from where I sit, I can't quite make out who _your lady_ really is," he said disparagingly.

Another angry blow knocked Warrick off his knees onto his backside.

Again, Gil turned towards Sara, who was fuming at what she deemed his display of possessiveness, bordering on domination. That wasn't her idea of love.

"Sara…" he reached for her, only to feel the air whiz by his fingertips.

"Save it….." she whispered, almost not getting the words out. She was hobbling, almost running, her movements quickening towards the exit door, slamming it open and disappearing into the night air.

By now, Warrick had regained enough of his bearings to join Grissom in calling out, "Sara!"

Grissom rushed past his colleague, sidestepping him awkwardly as he raced to the door.

He stepped out into the cool night air. The parking lot was busy with cars and taxis entering, parking, or leaving to blend with the busy stream of traffic in the distance.

He raced up and down the sidewalk, calling for her.

Sara was gone.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: The posting delay was due to the fact that I found this was a very emotional chapter to write. "No greater love, than to lay down one's life for a friend." Hope you will be absorbed into this chapter. There certainly is no "enjoyment" here… Your reviews will continue to shape the story. Curves ahead, stay alert! YOU continue to honor me with your generous reviews. THEY continue to whisper, only _this_ time I wasn't sure I wanted to listen…. You remain great… -Kathy

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The tears fell continuously.

The taxi ride home seemed to take forever.

_Home…_

_Forever…_

Sara wasn't even sure where home _was_ anymore.

She was headed back to the townhouse.

Should she stay there, and wait for the whole dance to begin again?

Should she head out to her own apartment, where a scant few days ago she had hit rock bottom in the pit of despair caused by Grissom's dinner invitation to Sofia?

Numbed by the chaos of the last few minutes, Sara sat looking out the window at the lights of the city passing by, the images blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors that sped her back to her childhood – and one foster home in particular.

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Left with people who emotionally were totally inept at handling the number of children they accepted from the county, everything in Sara's young world was rationed, hand-me-downs, and secondhand.

That is why with the loose change she had been hording, collected from careful examination of the edges of the concession area of the nearby park, Sara had proudly marched into her favorite escape from the doldrums of an uninteresting environment – the public library.

At seven years of age, Sara Sidle was well-known to the kindly men and women librarians. They admired her curiosity openly, and lamented her situation privately.

But today … today was the _Book Sale_ day.

She hoped she was not too late.

After a heart-stopping search through two shelves, she found a worn-for-wear copy of a book she had never read, but only heard about, _Cinderella_.

And she was her to make it her _own_.

Her young heart practically bursting through her chest, she triumphantly walked up to the desk and deposited her prize. Her young gap-toothed smile endeared her even more to the librarian, who realized the sacrifice of time and effort Sara had expended to save this much small change.

Counting out the pennies, spotted occasionally with a random nickel or dime, the librarian knew immediately that Sara had miscalculated. Hardcover books were one dollar more than paperbacks. Simply put, Sara had not collected nearly enough for the hardcover item.

Glancing up into those big brown eyes which had witnessed too young the harsh realities of life, the librarian suppressed a sob suddenly threatening to erupt from deep within. Their eyes locked for only a moment, just long enough for the librarian to privately muse:

_Oh, Sara…I hope you _will_ find your own knight, in shining armor, to rescue _you_ one day._

She wanted to weep for the resilience of this wonderful child.

Instead she forced herself to smile sweetly and respond maternally:

"And with a quarter to spare!"

Young Sara skipped all the way to the foster home.

She walked straight through the small backyard and went directly to her hiding spot halfway up the next door neighbor's oak tree.

Now, Mr. J. never wanted foster kids in his yard.

And he _never_ wanted "fosters" in his oak tree.

Sara knew this personally to be true, because Mr. J. had told her that one day.

But Mr. J. was _always_ very nice when he spoke to _her_.

He even let Sara walk home with him and his two sixth grade girls on some spring days, inviting Sara in for lemonade.

One day, Sara mentioned to the girls, as an extension of their conversation about this or that, how the oak tree would make a wonderful hideaway.

Not knowing Mr. J. would overhear her, Sara – in her naturally non-dramatic, matter-of-fact kind of way, told them that her deepest wish was to find a safe place like _that old oak tree_ to hide away sometimes.

Walking with his girls to accompany Sara home, Mr. J. leaned over and brushed the top of Sara's hair roughly.

She looked at him quizzically. No one had ever given her that type of fatherly attention before.

Mr. J. smiled and said conspiratorially, "Sara, I want you – and _only_ you – to always feel welcome to borrow my oak tree if you _ever_ need time in a _secret hideaway_."

Sara stopped.

Me. And ONLY me?

Sara had never owned anything _exclusively_ hers that she could ever remember.

She wanted to give Mr. J. a hug.

But he would probably be mad if she did, touching was never a good thing she had learned, so she just presented him with her biggest smile and beamed chokingly, "Thanks…thank you so much, Mr. J…."

Now in that oak tree hideaway, Sara spent the hour happily pouring through the upper-elementary level reading text. She thrilled at the fairy godmother, the mice, the horsemen, the prince.

She wiped away a tear when she read the part where Cinderella thought she was going to miss out on her special night, while the rest of her stepfamily boarded their coaches to begin their journey to the ball.

_Cinderella…I understand…you _are_ nice…they don't mean to treat you mean…your father didn't mean to leave you…I understand…_

She turned the page where she read about the prince finding that the shoe fit no stepsister, and was turning to leave the stepmother's home.

She turned to the next page to find how Cinderella figured out how to tell the prince where to find her.

It was blank.

Sara sat there as if someone had slapped her.

She blew sharply on the edge of the last of the typed pages, trying to pry the last page open as if the ending must be stuck fast to it.

The old edition had a damaged section of binding, causing the last few pages to fall out and become discarded without notice by library volunteers.

Of course, not being familiar with the story, Sara did not realize this.

_There was no happy ending._

Sara closed the book quietly.

She hugged it to herself for a long while, swinging her leg out from under her and letting it glide beneath the branch back and forth.

Finally, she thought she had figured it out.

_She_ was just like Cinderella.

And _she _was never going to have a happy ending to call her own, either.

Sara descended the tree, walking slowly into her foster home by the cluttered back entryway.

Before going to her room to lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling in lonely thought, she had to do one more thing.

She walked resolutely into the kitchen and tossed her storybook in the trashcan, leaving without even one backwards glance.

----------------------------------------------------

The sound of the driver's second call for her attention brought her roughly out of her mental trip down memory lane.

She paid the driver and ascended the darkened sidewalk, cursing herself for not leaving the outside lights on. _And I was worried that he might drive by because _he_ was worried about _me

Sara stood on the doorstep.

She fingered the townhouse key that Gil had presented to her that first night, a lone golden key on a small heart keychain. As she fingered the outline of the faceted fob, tears resurfaced.

_Where do I go now?_

She continued to stand there, lost in thought, unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

Sighing, she cleared her tears out of her eyes enough to fit the key into the shadowed lock. Once the tumblers were disengaged, she began to turn the knob as she thought of what to do next.

That decision was then made for her.

With a lunge, Ecklie appeared seemingly out of nowhere and body slammed both of them through the door.

The wind knocked out of her, Sara lay startled and still – face down on the foyer carpeting.

That is when she felt the piercing sting and her world became a surrealistic spin of shadows and voices.

Somehow this reminded her of that familiar nightmare.

_Her hands were strapped down and her feet were spread uncomfortably far apart, secured at the ankles. _

She couldn't move her arms or legs. Ecklie had given her an injection of something that created a quasi-paralysis of her extremities.

_Faces were all around her, whispering her name. Not in conversation __with__ her, as much as in conversation __about__ her._

_A cacophony of noise made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening around her._

Ecklie had his department issued scanner with him. She wasn't comprehending too much of the bulletin that Brass had already sounded an APB for Sara, with various units from the Sheriff's Office also engaged. Unable to focus her eyes on any one thing, the radio static created a hellish background in the silence of the townhouse.

_She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound._

_Someone was touching her, reaching under the blanket…NO!_

_She was straining against the restraints, but they held her fast._

Drifting in and out of awareness, Sara knew Ecklie was going to hurt her. She only slightly wondered what had given her the temporary reprieve before Ecklie began his all out assault on her body.

_Then she saw him._

_Grissom._

_He would save her._

_He had given her that promise._

"Not this time…" This thought replayed itself in her confused mind. "No real knight for me…"

Somewhere deep in Sara's subconscious replayed the conclusion she reached that day so long ago…

_She was _just like _Cinderella. _

_And _she_ was never going to have a happy ending to call her own, either._

"It's too late…he'll never want me now…I'm sorry, Gil…"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grissom speed-dialed Brass before he even reached his Denali.

Filling him in with only the understanding that Sara had fled the restaurant after a misunderstanding, _with Warrick_, Gil was speaking so excitedly that Brass had to bellow into his mouthpiece to tell him to slow down.

Gil took a half-second breath, before starting in again at almost the same pace.

"I want Warrick picked up and charged with assault…I'll file the charges myself if she won't," Grissom stated hatefully.

Now, Brass had already been on this rollercoaster with Doc. Remembering the events of that encounter, especially recalling Warrick's uncharacteristically firm parting words, Brass was less inclined to shoot off the hip this time.

"Gil, let's find Sara first and worry about Warrick later," Brass said in his most professional tone.

"I'm headed towards her apartment. I…I…don't think….she probably didn't go ho-…didn't go back to the townhouse."

"Gil…"

Grissom was sure his heart was fully broken now. This outcome was the last thing he expected when he had hatched his plan that night at the townhouse with Warrick and Nick…

He was supposed to get close to Sofia.

He was supposed to gain her trust.

He was supposed to get her to feel comfortable talking about the lab.

He was supposed to wheedle the information out of her about how she uncovered the evidence, to see if Greg's story checked out.

For all his savvy scientifically, he needed to learn a lot more about women.

From his standpoint, dinner and drinks would be the ideal venue to loosen up Sofia enough to get what he needed.

He did _not_ expect to find Warrick assaulting Sara. What was she doing there with _him_, anyway?

Grissom's anger was returning.

"Gil!" Brass repeated.

When no answer was forthcoming, the detective leaned back against the padded driver's seat in his cruiser, and simply said, "Gil…we'll find her…"

Grissom ended the call.

Brass engaged the lights and sirens.

---------------------------------------------------

Ecklie had planned to subdue Sara with his own special "rape drug" concoction, enjoy the evening, and then leave her to be found by Grissom.

_Sweet, succulent Sara…don't think you'll care for sloppy seconds, though, will you Gil?_, Ecklie thought vindictively.

After incapacitating her, Ecklie had twisted around to lock the front door.

Upon returning to his original mission, the scotch-impaired lab director suddenly found himself infested with a dozen winged guardians attacking every opening of his face.

Angrily swatting at them, they continued their onslaught mercilessly.

Not able to do any real damage, they made such a nuisance of themselves that Ecklie's rage exploded.

Soon he was grabbing at them, catching one at a time. While the others continued their valiant protests, he triumphed gleefully over each one individually.

The two-toned butterfly seemed the most aggressive, and Ecklie enjoyed slapping it using excessive force with an opened hand in the direction of the living room scatter rug.

He took one second of pleasure watching it bounce off the end table before hitting the rug. Seeing the creature lose a wing, before hitting the floor to lay unmoving, made him smile evilly before turning to the others.

Some he crushed under the firm grip of his large hands before tossing them to the ground like unwanted litter.

Some he pulled apart and discarded like shredded paper.

A few he threw down and stepped on, wishing he could be here to see his face when Grissom had to scrape them off the carpet.

After a moment, he realized they were all gone- Sara's last line of defense before she succumbed to her fate at his hands.

Now Ecklie turned his sights to the reason he had come here.

----------------------------------------------------

Sofia had found herself a new playmate in the cocktail lounge of the restaurant, Warrick observed while making his case to the restaurant owner that there was no need to call 911.

With a stern warning not to return again, the restaurant owner escorted him off the premises.

Like Sara before him, he exited the building to find a taxi in waiting directly outside the door.

He immediately climbed in and gave the driver the address of the townhouse. With that, he flipped open his phone and dialed Brass.

He certainly was _not_ in the mood to call Grissom.

Warrick only wanted to be sure Sara had gotten home safely. He was well aware of the very real threat from Ecklie. As he alone bore the burden of the serious implications of the situation, his anxiety was already causing his adrenaline to soar through the top of the charts.

He needed to be sure she was okay. _Please be okay, I'll never forgive myself if he…_

Brass answered on the second ring.

"Warrick…where are you?" he inquired evenly, not wanting to tip his hand.

"Listen, Brass, I know Grissom would already have called you, so _save_ it." Warrick answered in a disgusted tone.

"Tell me about Sara…"

The line was quiet. Warrick's heart sank.

"Brass…Jim…_please_…just tell me if she is alright."

After a sigh, "I put out an APB."

Warrick slammed the phone shut. "STEP ON IT!"

---------------------------------------------

Ecklie had removed Sara's clothing roughly. She lay before him, unmoving. The drugs were meant to make her unable to resist, but "fully participate" in every other sense.

And he planned to help himself to plenty of her "participation".

He was so focused on the depth of the depravity he had planned for her, that he originally did not hear the screams of the Sheriff's units as they approached from the end of the street.

When he _did_ realize it, there was scant seconds before he reacted. Cursing as he stood, the toes of his smooth-soled rubber overshoes slammed forcefully into the site of Sara's healing ribs, causing blood to immediately ooze out of her mouth.

Eyes closed against the pain, Sara did not see Ecklie aim one final blow to her head before the room disappeared into total darkness, blessedly free from pain.

Ecklie raced to his car, clandestinely parked on a side street. He moved through the neighbor's hedge to access his vehicle – the entire path to and from the townhouse made entirely of gravel.

Ecklie had not been a CSI all those years for nothing.

Too bad he didn't consider that the bleeding from Sara's mouth had splashed onto his overshoes as he landed the parting blow.

In the dark, the wet gravel had removed those droplets, waiting to be discovered in the light of day.

Frustrated beyond belief, Ecklie simmered behind the steering column of his four-wheeled fortress. Not sure of his next move, he focused on covering his tracks.

For now, Ecklie planned to return this "borrowed' car back to a nearby apartment complex lot close to the LVPD lab.

Earlier, after seeing Warrick leave the lab lot with Sara, Ecklie had left his own company-issued vehicle parked in his regular spot in the lab's parking lot, a clever way to support his prepared alibi, should he need one.

Now, he watched them approach with sirens blazing and tearing into the driveway of the townhouse. Feeling invincible, Ecklie donned the real owner's cowboy hat and hotwired the stolen car a second time, turning the corner and driving unnoticed directly in front of the developing scene in one final act of defiance.

Meanwhile, the six officers – the Sheriff's Elite – stormed through the front door Ecklie had left ajar.

Having secured the scene, they were calling for paramedics as they stood over Sara's naked form.

The Sheriff himself strode up the sidewalk and into the townhouse with giant, hurried steps.

Seeing Sara laying in that state on the floor, he barked to his team to get out and secure the scene outside.

Moving swiftly to the living room couch, he grabbed the afghan and raced to cover her the best he could, mindful of her injuries.

Once he did a cursory first-responder exam of her face and side, the Sheriff knelt close to her face.

He wanted to smooth her hair, comforting her unconscious form, wanting to hope against hope that this very courageous young woman knew her ordeal was over and that she was safe now.

He knew better than to touch the body – to touch _her_ – he corrected himself angrily.

The attacker may have left crucial evidence on her person.

The Sheriff sighed.

He had never dreamed it would come to this…

Looking over his shoulder to be insure his privacy in this moment, he bent down low so his lips were next to Sara's ear.

In a kinder voice than generally expected from this tower of strength, the Sheriff whispered pointedly, hoping she would hear him:

"Please believe me, Sara. I never..."

He was interrupted by the angry commotion outside the front door.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: I don't think I have fully recovered from Ecklie's murder of my favorite characters…I don't think their story is quite finished, though…Your reviews for the last chapter were outstanding, and several of you offered comments that directly contributed to the events of this chapter…hold onto your hats…there's quite a ride ahead…in doing the final read through before posting, I actually became a bit emotional at this chapter's end...be prepared...I hope you will find some answers to the questions that have developed throughout the last few chapters…your reviews mean so much…as does your continued support of this story….you are just terrific! Next update whenever, but as soon as possible… -Kathy

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Sheriff stood and clambered to the front door, opening it in time to hear Warrick's angry tones heatedly challenging the two officers blocking his path, "Yeah? You and what army?"

The whole scene would have been comical save for the seriousness of the situation.

Warrick was surrounded by the six man special detail assigned to the Sheriff's high priority cases. They reported only to the Sheriff, and usually accompanied him when he became actively involved in a crime scene investigation.

These officers matched Warrick in height, but outweighed him in bulk, outranked him in their current jurisdiction, and out-and-out dominated the confrontation with their fire power.

Yet, Warrick fearlessly continued to demand entrance to the townhouse.

From the moment the taxi pulled onto this street, Warrick already knew that Ecklie had made an appearance.

From the site of the Elite Force on scene, he feared for Sara's life.

Now was not the time to concede it was business-as-usual.

Attempting again to push past them, Warrick was saved from the soon-to-be-painful submission tactics the officers were well-trained to execute.

Instead, a commanding voice from the doorway sliced through their raised voices.

"What is going on here, Brown?"

As if on cue, the officers parted on either side of Warrick to allow the Sheriff access to the maverick.

"Sheriff, where's Sara? What happened here? How is she? Is she alright?"

The Sheriff had stayed in the doorway, mostly to keep one eye on the still unconscious object of Warrick's concern.

The wail of the ambulance could be heard blocks away.

"Brown, what do you know about this?"

The ring around him surreptitiously closing to prevent a sudden getaway attempt, Warrick remained unaware of his immediate surroundings as he shook his head before replying.

"She confided in me a little. I don't really know many details. I _do_ know that Sara has been aware for some time about a real risk, a real _threat_ to her safety. I was with her tonight for a while. She left the restaurant quickly, _alone_, and I followed her here to be sure she was okay. Now your turn, _where the hell is Sara_?"

The Sheriff sighed. He was experienced enough to know that the smaller the circle, the more control you maintained towards a preferred outcome.

With this in mind, he simply replied, "She's been injured. We are waiting for an ambulance to take her to Desert Palms to get checked out."

Warrick became very animated and he rubbed his large hands over his face and then through his hair.

His next statement garnered the Sheriff's total attention.

"Sheriff, it was Ecklie."

The Sheriff's eyes snapped to meet his.

"Excuse me?"

The more he thought about it, the more distraught he became. _This time I was too late…_

"Ecklie!" he almost screamed in reply.

"She was injured, or raped, or terrorized somehow. And Conrad Ecklie did this to her!"

The Sheriff counted slowly to twenty before deciding regrettably that there was only one course of action left open to him.

"Officers, handcuff CSI Brown and take him immediately to my office. Be sure he has no contact – in person or by phone – with _anyone_ until I can return to question him further."

With that, the stunned CSI had his arms pulled behind him while another officer snapped on the cuffs, removed his cell phone, and whipped him around sharply, using care not to injure him.

Before he had time to blink three times in disbelief, the squad car was already leaving the driveway to take him to the Sheriff's office.

_What in the HELL is going on here?_

---------------------------------------------------------------

Gil had driven by Sara's apartment. The lights were not on, but he decided to use the key she had entrusted to him to gain access.

He had to be sure. _No stone left unturned_.

Grissom walked straight through the empty living area to the bedroom. Checking the bathroom and finding nothing, his shoulders slumped.

_Sara, where _are_ you, sweetheart? _

_I need you._

_I need to see you._

_I need to tell you._

_I'm so sorry._

_Sara, please… where are you?_

His eyes fell on her couch, where the old comforter lay balled up in the corner.

He had made his decision, and he knew in his heart it was right.

He loved her without reservation.

How did it get to this point?

They had a fight. Their first fight as a couple. He winced. Then sighed.

He knew it had all been his fault.

Sara was just being Sara.

A discriminating friend, but loyal to the exclusion of all else if she let you in.

This was the spark of hope that kept him from really believing she had left him.

She had been so forgiving before.

_Sara…forgive me one last time…_

Quickly securing the front door lock, he flew to his vehicle and raced to the townhouse.

------------------------------------------

The ambulance attendants were just finishing loading the gurney when Brass' squad car was turning on to this street.

Upon seeing them slamming one door of the back, Brass gunned it, again making the high pitched sirens sound.

_No one phoned in a response to the APB. Why are there units and an ambulance?_

Someone had the effrontery to keep him out of the loop, not following procedure. Either that, or this is just a hot, breaking story that has not filtered down yet. Still…dispatch should have had the information before the paramedics were sent.

Something was not adding up.

But he was sure the drama all centered around a certain tall brunette.

Brass maneuvered his car directly in front of the ambulance.

If this was about Sara, nobody was going anywhere until he got some answers.

Jumping out of the car without bothering to close the driver's door, he raced to the back of the ambulance while already whipping out his ID.

He turned the corner, almost ripping the ambulance door off the hinges while shouting, "Las Vegas Police! Who's in charge here?"

Some of the Elite Force suddenly appeared out of the shadows, their movement turning Brass's attention away from the ambulance bay. He recognized them immediately. _What the hell is going on here?_

The answer to his original query stunned him next. The sound of the responder from inside the ambulance made Brass whip his head around almost painfully to confirm visually what his auditory sense had already confirmed.

"That would be me, detective."

------------------------------------------------------

Brass was ordered to contact CSI Willows to meet them at the Desert Palms ER as soon as possible, Priority One. Her assigned was to be kept out of the record and not issued over the department frequency.

He was also ordered to stay at the townhouse and secure the scene.

The Sheriff was extremely specific that _no_ CSI enter the townhouse, unless they carried written instructions signed by him.

With that, an officer responded to the Sheriff's hand signal and slammed the doors shut, but not before the Sheriff glared at a now angry Brass, "And get that squad car out of our way!"

As the ambulance went speeding into the night, leaving an uneasy silence behind, Brass sat behind the wheel drumming his fingers over the top of the steering column.

_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?_

After a minute, the professional in him took over.

He wanted answers.

He was capable of getting them himself.

He would call Catherine.

He would secure the scene.

But first….he was calling Grissom.

-----------------------------------------

Sara had still not awakened. She was not responsive, and there was still concern for internal bleeding.

By the time the ambulance had arrived, the entire entourage of paramedics, Elite Force officers, the Sheriff, and Sara, were rushed through the ambulance entrance and whisked off to a private suite on the second floor.

Greeted by the head of the hospital, the doctor barked orders to his full team of medical care specialists. The Force retreated to the corridor, keeping their vigil to prevent interruptions or visitation. By _anyone_.

The Sheriff sat on a chair in the corner of the suite.

He was not letting Sara out of his sight until he was certain she was out of danger.

---------------------------------------

Grissom was traveling so fast that his forceful braking as he executed the wide swing into his driveway almost made the Denali flip over.

He raced up the walkway, heart pounding, almost knocking Brass over to gain access to the house.

"Gil, woah…slow down…she's not here…"

Brass' words sliced through the last bit of restraint Gil had mustered to deal with his escalating fear.

Gil Grissom was the poster boy for paradox.

The angrier he was, the more controlled his outward appearance. The more he wanted to shout and scream, the quieter he became. The more he wanted to give in to violent outbursts of temper, the more introspective he became.

On this occasion, however, those observations were no longer valid.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he snarled, grabbing Brass by the lapels, pinning him up against the railing.

"Gil…" was all Brass said before he forced him to relinquish his grip.

Brass was now in a quandary.

He was a sworn agent of the LVPD, bound by the dictates of the Sheriff.

He was also the best friend of Gil Grissom, who had loved this woman exclusively for as long as Brass had known him.

That is why the disclosure was so painful to relate.

He sighed.

"Sit down, Gil." When he didn't move, "Please…"

They sat. Brass related what he knew.

Another sigh.

He related the Sheriff's unusual behavior and unexpected orders.

Gil said nothing.

The whole situation was so unreal.

Sara was in the hospital. She hated hospitals. She was unconscious. _I hope she isn't afraid…_

Gil took a deep breath. He could be strong. He had been privy to some of the worst crime scenes imaginable. He knew how to keep his emotions out of doing his job.

"Have you called Catherine yet?"

_Here we go._ "Gil, there was one more thing." Brass braced himself for the expected reaction.

"Under strict orders, I am not allowed to let any CSI enter this crime scene."

He expected fireworks.

He expected fury.

He did not expect what happened next.

Without a word, Gil just stood up and walked back to his car.

Brass stared in confusion as his friend just simply drove away.

----------------------------------------------

Waiting for Catherine to collect an SAE kit and process Sara's body for evidence was no longer an option.

Sara's condition was deteriorating.

Sara had needed surgery to repair her ribs and control the internal bleeding. An operating theatre had been on call, and Sara had been rushed in after she was stabilized.

Now in a private room on the surgical floor, she was being attended by several residents and nurses. The Sheriff continued to occupy a chair in the corner of the room.

Outside the floor's elevator and outside her door, pairs of the Elite Force stood guard with strict orders that _no_ visitors were allowed, particularly _any _CSI from _any_ shift.

When the technology was finally in place, the new IV medications were given and new bags of saline were hung, the medical team left to continue their observations electronically from the nursing station. The Sheriff was finally alone with Sara.

He sat by her bed, watching her face.

Now out of the limelight, the man behind the badge allowed himself to emerge.

_She seems so fragile. _

_Looking at her now, it would be easy to underestimate the courage and commitment she possesses._

_She is quite a woman._

_She had accepted my proposal without hesitation._

_She had said she was aware of the risks, but she was committed to stopping Ecklie from hurting another person._

_Sara hadn't realized that the Sheriff totally understood that she was committed to protecting -_**him**

Memories of that conversation brought a smile to his face.

He took her cold hand in his.

_Sara, did you think I didn't know? Didn't see who you were really protecting? You were more afraid of _his _career being hurt than you were of securing justice for yourself._

He looked at her lying there, so thin, so bruised, so pale…

His smile disappeared.

He sighed.

Over the years, the Sheriff had been forced to watch the interactions between Grissom and Sara from his clandestine vantage point. In his younger days, the Sheriff himself had been an observant detective in his own right.

Perhaps it was human nature, but once he recruited Sara for this long range project, the Sheriff had always felt rather protective of her.

So, whenever Grissom's attitude toward Sara sent too much grief _her _way, the Sheriff had reacted by yanking _Grissom_'s chain.

On one occasion in particular, his attitude needed such an adjustment that the Sheriff suspended him for a week, citing Grissom's lack of political correctness on a case involving the FBI.

_She committed every bit of the dedication she gives to her job to joining my undercover team to build the evidentiary case against Ecklie._

_I can accept that she knew the risks going in._

_I _cannot_ accept that, despite all our efforts, LVPD's finest simply could not prevent this from happening to her… _again

Once again, he found himself leaning over Sara's face, whispering in her ear, "_I'm so sorry, Sara."_

And once again, he found himself distracted by the disturbance at the door.

---------------------------------------------------------

Brass had been sitting on the front steps for a while.

He had called Catherine and relayed the message.

He had attempted to reach Warrick, and wondered not for the first time in the past hour where the hot-tempered CSI was, curiosity making him wonder why he was not here searching for Sara.

Realizing he couldn't put it off any longer, Brass stood and entered the townhouse.

Not immediately recognizing the debris for what it was, Brass stepped closer to the first mound and knelt down. In a characteristic turn of his head, a sign that he was internalizing the scene and formulating a theory, he leaned closer to visually inspect the contents.

Upon realizing the meaning of his discovery, Brass' eyes widened. He jumped to his feet, from colored pile to colored mass to colored stain.

A strong visceral reaction caused him to retreat to the doorway for a cleansing breath of the cool night air Vegas was offering this night.

He stood with his back to the scene, closed his eyes, and consciously breathed deeply and slowly.

_In…and out…in slowly…out slowly. Sara…my lord…what happened here?_

Remembering the joy she took in her winged friends made his heart ache in a way that he found hard to describe.

_Who had done this? Who was so twisted as to torture, not just kill, but torture these beautiful creatures –_

A thought emerged that made him flush with panic.

_Had he forced her to watch? Was his plan to cause her such pain emotionally that he would become even more gratified when inflicting his physical pain upon her?_

Try as he might, he could not get the image out of his mind - a horrified Sara, powerless to stop the harm to her beloved friends, a homecoming gift…

All he could do was stand there, gazing out towards the harvest moon.

He couldn't remember ever feeling so….helpless.

Brass shook his head, pursed his lips, chewed the inside of his lip….then wiped away the errant tear.

------------------------------------------------------

Again the Sheriff swung open the door to uncover the source of the disturbance.

This time, however, it wasn't an upset Warrick facing down his officers.

It was an angry Grissom being physically restrained from repeating his assault on one of his officers.

The officer who was attempting to get back on his feet was poised for retaliation. His actions, intended for Grissom who was fighting off the grip of the much taller partner, was halted by the Sheriff's stern, "Release him!"

Angrily shrugging off his grip, Grissom turned and launched his clenched fist, expertly hitting its mark a second time.

Lurching towards the fallen officer, intent on inflicting more harm, Grissom felt the Sheriff's grip spinning him around.

"Enough, Gil!"

The use of his first name seemed to do the trick. Shaking his hand pointedly, Grissom straightened his jacket and shot a death glare directly at the Sheriff.

"I want to see Sara… _now_!"

In focusing on Sara until now, the Sheriff had not fully planned for this expected turn of events.

It had been his experience that Grissom was not capable of public expressions of his true feelings for Sara.

He needed time to consider the ramifications. He was not about to let Sara's sacrifices over the years amount to nullifying the evidence they had amassed just because Grissom finally had gotten his head out of his…microscope.

"Sorry, until her condition stabilizes, _no one_ will be allowed to enter this room."

Meeting Grissom's objection head-on, he ignored the beginnings of his protest by turning to one of his officers and asking them to bring Sara's doctor to speak with Grissom.

Eyeing Grissom momentarily, the officer looked back over his shoulder at the Sheriff before striding down the hallway towards the nurse's station.

Grissom grabbed the Sheriff's arm before he could retreat into Sara's room. The lone officer fingered his revolver instinctively.

The Sheriff raised his hand to belay that action and turned to meet Grissom's tortured gaze.

"Just…_please_…how _is_ she?"

The Sheriff paused a moment before glancing downward, replying, "She's still asleep, Gil. She hasn't been conscious since I have been present."

Grissom shut his eyes. When he reopened them, there was not fire, only resolution.

"I'm not leaving. I will sit right outside this door until you let me in to see her, to be with her, but I'm not leaving."

The Sheriff simply nodded.

Before he made it through the doorway, Grissom managed one more impassioned plea.

"Please…don't leave her alone, in case she wakes up…she hates hospitals…she's always been afraid of them… she has…she has had some pretty bad experiences…. she has…she has nightmares about them…"

The Sheriff did not turn around as he replied softly, "Yes, Gil…I know."

With that the door to Sara's room closed with a soft click.

-----------------------------------------

Grissom had spoken to the doctor in length about Sara's condition. He had such great concern about her head injury.

He had pressed the doctor about the possibility of Sara being sexually assaulted.

The doctor confirmed there had been no time to ascertain that fact as the internal bleeding had been their immediate concern.

So now he sat, yards away from her bed, perched on a bench in the hallway outside her door.

The two uniforms were back on sentry duty.

Grissom had never felt so alone.

His thoughts were so jumbled, his heart was so broken, his whole being was so tired. So tired…

He wasn't sure when it happened.

He wasn't sure _how_ it happened.

But surely Providence had deigned to give him one more chance to make it better.

For here he stood, unbelieving.

Watching the tide rolling in under a sky so clear you could see for miles.

The sound of sea gulls winging their way along the tranquil coast.

He whipped around.

The ebony thicket beckoned him.

If he was here….really here…that could only mean…

Sara was also here.

He tried to move too quickly along the sandy incline, tripping and falling – and then repeating the process – until he had reached the thicket.

He moved slowly through the haven, and when he reached the other side of their tunnel of self-discovery, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There she stood, gazing out at her bay, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

His heart stopped. For a moment, he was filled with hesitation.

_What if...what if she didn't _want_ to see him?_

_He couldn't bear it if he had lost her for good - in this, of all places._

He could feel his feet moving, but was sure there was no discernible beating of his heart.

For only the second time in his life, Gil Grissom was actually afraid.

As he neared, Sara sensed his presence before she actually heard him.

He stopped abruptly as he saw her turn.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, try as she might to contain her pain, she gulped heavily as her sobs broke free.

That is when he watched her run into his arms.

He felt as if he had been reborn, every sensation he was feeling overwhelming him to the point where he could not longer stand.

He sank to the ground, pulling her tighter into him until he thought he could pull her inside of him, defending her against her pain with his own life if need be.

Sara clung to him as if the slightest separation would surely mean her demise. She wanted to crawl inside him and curl up into the only safety she had ever known.

He continued to soothe and caress her as they lay together in this sandy paradise.

He never wanted this embrace to end. If he had to die, he wanted to go now for he could never imagine a heaven to compare to the feeling of her finally in his arms again.

She never wanted this embrace to end. She was safe. She was loved.

She was _home_.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Snow days are good for many things, including sending my favorite readers a new update on the last chapter. I promise you they wrote this themselves…I was just a willing typist… : ) …Once again, comments from some of the wonderful reviews from last night helped shape this chapter…reviews are like gold, as are those who leave them…but everyone who is supporting this story has my heartfelt thanks. This one is fashioned to put a smile on your face…I think we need one after the last few chapters…next update whenever, but as soon as possible... -Kathy

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He found he couldn't release her from his arms.

He was so sure she had been lost to him, and in reality might _still_ be lost to him, that surrender proved impossible.

They continued to lie on the soft sands, their idyllic world still intact yet now infused with the painful realities that had invaded their paradise from the other side.

It became clear to him that he had only one course of action.

_Love her now…there might not be a later…_

With the urgency of a man strapped to a ticking bomb, one with the capacity to change his life permanently and without warning, Gil pulled them both to a sitting position and breathed out, "Come with me, Sara….there's not much time."

She complied, still gluing herself to his side before he hoisted her into his brawny hold, carrying her towards the comfort of their covered retreat.

He didn't waste a moment of their diminishing time together.

As he walked, he was peppering her with kisses in the manner that she loved.

He spoke between each contact that his lips made with her face, hair, and neck, repeating his mantra of endearments, begging her to commit them to memory until he could find a way to be with her again.

Sara was so overcome with emotion that the tears would not fall.

Instead, she breathed him in like a connoisseur of fine wine – creating a memory of the scent, the taste, the feeling of his assault on her mouth.

These sensory snapshots were quickly being compiled into a mental scrapbook entitled, _My Happy Ending. _

Reaching the thicket, he was so tender in his movements as he lay her down on the cool shaded depression made by their last happy encounter here.

He continued to keep his mouth in contact with her physically.

This was not about a physical release for his pent up frustrations.

Nor was it about seeking forgiveness or enjoying the proverbial 'make up sex.'

This was about a man who possibly would make love…to the woman of his dreams…for the last time in his life.

He wanted every action, every touch, every word to convey to her that she was adored, that she had shown him what it meant to truly love – something he had thought he'd die without knowing.

And he did _love_ her.

He dispensed with any attempts at foreplay. Time was a thief already approaching to steal away these few precious moments together.

As he joined his body to hers, they both stilled. Together, they sighed in the exquisite coupling that signaled so much more than the union of their flesh.

Gil knew they didn't have much time. There was so much he wanted to say, that she needed to hear, that they needed to consummate.

He pulled himself so far out of her, Sara thought for a minute their contact would be completely severed.

Instead he hovered just at her doorway, knowing he needed to get some things off his chest before he had the right to claim her as his own.

Using both hands to smooth her hair and ensure she was looking at him, his eyes locked onto hers, like a drowning man holding onto a lifeline.

"To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides." (Swetchine)

"Honey, you have always offered me that warmth. I know I often walked away from you. If we get another chance to be together, I won't make those same mistakes again, ever, for the rest of my life."

His loving, intimate thrust seemed to ask her to accept his pledge. She tossed back her head slightly without breaking eye contact, the flames of her body's need for him beginning their glow.

"I love you, Gil."

Seamlessly, he continued speaking earnestly, clearly, but quickly while withholding himself from her, sealing his promises with each thrust deep inside of her, making his body shudder with the pleasure of their contact – and the pain of their imminent separation.

The cycle of his speaking followed by a powerful thrust was lovingly repeated over and over, stealing their breaths away, sealing their commitment to each other.

"To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.' (Sheffield)

"Sweetheart, you _are_ my heaven…my today, my tomorrow, my forever. There _is_ no me without you. If we get another chance to be together, I will be sure to show you how _much _I need you each and every waking hour for the rest of my life."

"I love you, Gil."

Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'" (Fromm)

"Sara, I have been such a coward my whole life. I never _wanted_ to need anyone…I guess I was afraid to go through the pain when they finally left me. I know, _now_, that when _you_ say you love me, it really _is_ forever. If we get another chance to be together, I will be sure that I show you how much your gift really means to me, show you each and everyday for the rest of my life."

"I love you, Gil."

Each emotion-charged thrust brought them, in their need to prove their love to each other before it was too late, closer and closer to the edge.

Their love-making was purging her of all her doubts, bridging them over the waters that had mired him in the insecurities which forced him to hold back that final part of his heart, sealing them both in a bond stronger than one that could be forged in the recitation of wedding vows.

All the pictures that hung in my memory before I knew you have faded and given place to our radiant moments together. Now I cannot live apart from you...Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are everything to me. (Bernhardt)

"Sara, please…if you know nothing else to be true…know that _I_ _love you_ with all my heart and soul. You have my promise. I will love you forever. You are my one and only. You, Sara…I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you….ohhh…"

"Gil…baby…I love _you_, I love _you_, I love _you_…ohhh…"

They clung to each other feeling that they had ceased to exist, that they had been transformed into this new and beautiful being – two hearts now melded forever into one pulsing organ that would infuse both their souls…and decimate those souls when they would soon be forced to part.

Not wanting to waste a moment basking in the afterglow of this special union, Gil mustered his strength to pull her towards him.

_I'm not ready to go…not yet…please, give us a little more time…_

Sara was already crying softly at the inevitable. She would be here, alone, while her body healed itself…_if her body healed_…

She didn't remember much. Perhaps, she didn't _want_ to remember.

She couldn't recall how she had gotten here, or how long she had been here.

That is why he had found her on the shoreline with her arms wrapped so tightly around her.

She had been envisioning him, walking with him along this beach, talking to him about little things and nothing…just being with him.

His absence from their Better Place had physically pained her.

She was hugging herself tightly to prevent herself from falling apart.

When she had turned, at first she thought he was a mirage.

As she observed him closely, she realized it was not a dream.

Her tears came from her relief at seeing him, and her need to feel him pressed against her.

Now, the tears resurfaced for the same reasons.

He continued to soothe her, whispering I love you's in her ear, holding her tightly in his embrace.

They lay there…waiting.

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For a time after his encounter in the hallway, the Sheriff sat staring at Sara's unconscious form and debated what to do about Grissom.

If he brought him into the operation, the Sheriff was aware of the unpredictability of Grissom's reaction when he discovered all the facts.

If he kept him in the dark, then it would be necessary to keep him away from Sara when she would need him most.

It was always better to keep undercover operations close to the chest: _the smaller the circle, the more control you maintained towards a preferred outcome._

That's what he had thought when faced with Warrick's involvement –

_Warrick._

He rubbed his hand slowly over his tired eyes.

He had forgotten that the confused CSI must be thinking he was being arrested for hurting Sara.

The Sheriff had only wanted to ensure that if Ecklie had returned to the lab, Warrick did not have a chance to confront him with his suspicions.

They had given Ecklie a long leash.

They were this close to pulling him back in.

They needed just a little more time…

Taking a deep breath, the Sheriff stood suddenly and approached Sara's bed.

Standing over her, he looked at the many monitors while he took hold of her hand.

Both gave the same information – no change.

Sighing loudly, he leaned over and brushed an errant curl off Sara's cheek. He whispered in her ear, "I'm leaving now. I'm going to send in something to make you feel _much_ better."

Squeezing her hand slightly, he straightened and donned his most official disposition.

He opened the door, acknowledged the sentries, and surveyed the hallway. As he was promised, Gil was sitting upright on a bench slightly across from her door. His eyes were closed, his breathing a bit labored.

_Must have fallen asleep…_the Sheriff thought as he strode confidently towards him.

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They continued to stay close, Gil wanting to speak until she could not longer hear his voice.

Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved. (Sunde)

_Remember_, Sara, _I_. _Love_. _You._

I want you to be happy in my love.

Be happy, Sara.

I love you.

Always.

Forever.

Remember…remember… remember…

"Remember!", Gil said forcefully as the Sheriff's shaking startled him awake.

He felt as if he had been sucker-punched. His arms ached in their emptiness.

Realizing the Sheriff was indeed standing over him, his concern immediately went to Sara's condition.

"What's happened?" he asked worriedly, seeking answers in the Sheriff's stoic countenance.

The Sheriff sat down on the bench.

_He's sitting down. This can _not_ be good news! SARA!!!!!!!!_

Sensing his panic, the Sheriff quickly allayed his fears. "She's stable, Gil. Please…sit down. I need to talk to you."

Trying to place his broken heart back within the confines of his chest, Grissom's body language told the Sheriff he had his complete attention.

"I have to return to my office on urgent business. I am breaking my own rule, here, Gil. Don't screw it up."

Gil was perplexed. What rule? What was he trying to tell him?

The Sheriff was all business. He looked Grissom directly in the eye.

"No other CSI's. I don't _care_ how you feel about that. And my men are _totally_ in charge of the scene, and that includes _anything _concerning Sara.

If they need to remove you from the room, no matter _how_ you feel about them, you must leave. _Is that clear_, Gil? If they need to remove you, it will only be under my express orders."

He paused to allow Gil to weigh the gravity of his words.

"Can you agree to these stipulations?"

Still not fully comprehending the offer on the table, but hopeful that he was understanding the undertones of the edict, Gil nodded dumbstruck.

"Fine."

The Sheriff stood and motioned to the sentries to approach him.

"Officers, as of now, Gil Grissom is the only member of the LVPD to be allowed unlimited access to Miss Sidle. This order stands unless you receive my written confirmation to the contrary."

The Sheriff turned one last time towards Grissom.

"Remember, Gil…" he said sternly.

Then he turned to stalk away, pausing briefly to catch Grissom's eye one last time. A brief encouraging smile crossed his lips before it faded and he returned to his departure.

Gil hurried to her door, but paused to stare into the eyes of the officer whom he had injured.

"Officer…" he began, but was interrupted sharply.

"Forget it, Grissom…I'm happy for you…" And with that, the officer held open the door for him.

Gil walked into the room. He was horrified at the site before him.

Dragging a chair to her bedside, he took her hand as he tried to make sense of the information the electronics were relaying.

He smoothed her hair. He leaned forward and softly kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips.

He nestled his head on the pillow next to her ear, whispering softly near her ear, "_Remember_…"


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: A personal milestone has been reached – this writer thanks bordercollie for sending the 200th review! Each reviewer earns my sincere thanks, your reactions and comments have been thought-provoking, this story is due in large part to your inspirations…and to all of you who support this story, you inspire me to continue. When I began this sequel, I had no idea it would run this long! From where I sit, they still have lots to tell me! So as I began thinking about the mind-blowing fact that I had reached Chapter 30, I decided I would give most of the characters a well-deserved night off, give Sara and Gil some privacy, and allow the Sheriff his 15 minutes of fame.

To those of you who said you couldn't stand the wait, this chapter is unofficially entitled, "Recollections". It is, finally, the complete backstory of the reasons for, and the creation of, the Sheriff's undercover operation. To those of you who think it is too impossible to have happened, my apologies. To those of you who believe it is indeed credible, you are in for a great many surprises. As always, reviews and reactions are appreciated. Hope it pleases! Next update whenever. You all remain terrific! –Kathy

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His driver intent on returning to headquarters, a weary Sheriff leaned forward on the padded bench seat in the rear of the town car and raised the privacy shield.

Totally alone with his thoughts, he leaned his head back against the headrest and gazed at the starry sky to his left. The night was so clear, so clear…he wished his head was clear.

How had things gotten so out of hand?

Could he have foreseen these events?

Had he somehow mismanaged the operation, causing Sara such grievous injury?

The Sheriff closed his eyes.

Sara.

He thought back to the night this whole mess began. Warrick had driven her to the lab…

They had parked, at Sara's insistence, around the back near the morgue entrance.

As the Sheriff had emerged from the wide steel door with the latest autopsy report on their police shooter, he immediately halted to take in the scene before him.

Warrick had Sara by the arm, pulling her in a direction she obviously did not want to go.

Concerned for her safety, as there had been a rash of attempted attacks on female lab employees over the last six months, none serious enough to warrant more than a memo crossing his desk, the Sheriff did not wait to become involved in the action before him.

"Brown! Let her go!" he bellowed, moving quickly towards them.

"Sheriff!" Warrick replied, glancing knowingly at Sara but refusing to relinquish her grip. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

_Hardly the sentiments of a guilty party…_

"I'm _fine_…" Sara said a bit too smartly, as she continued to glare occasionally at Warrick in a _keep him out of this_ stare.

The Sheriff had been a pretty good interrogator in his day. He immediately picked up the signs of a heated dispute here.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, continuing to stare at Sara who appeared to be okay, yet somehow…not.

"Sheriff, Sara-"

"Warrick, enough!" Sara almost screamed, cutting him off before he could continue.

She forcefully shrugged herself from the death grip on her arm, turned to face the Sheriff angrily, and said, "I told him…I am _fine_!"

He went with his gut reaction.

She _wasn't _fine.

The Sheriff asked to speak to Warrick privately for a moment.

Sara shot her hands up in the air and moved towards the entrance.

"Just a minute, Sara…"

The use of her first name caught her off-guard. She turned and watched him stride towards her. "Would you please wait for me in my office?" and when she demurred, "Please?"

Without a word, she disappeared into the building. He watched as he saw her shadow turn down the corridor leading to his suite of offices.

Now turning towards Warrick, he did not allow him to speak before he offered this compromise, "Brown, it's obvious something of a …private nature…is concerning _you_ where Sidle is concerned. If I promise you that I will talk to her, will you give me your word that this incident, whatever it is, will stay between the three of us?"

Warrick was stunned. He searched the Sheriff's eyes for any indication that this offer was anything more than an attempt to get him away from Sara.

Seeing the earnest expression, and knowing the Sheriff's reputation as an honorable man – no matter how much he often disagreed with his tactics – Warrick agreed.

The Sheriff stepped in closer.

"Remember Brown, _no one_ else…"

Warrick straightened to his full height.

"Tell Sara I'll be in the lab when she's done. I'd like to be sure she gets home safely."

The Sheriff nodded and then left for what would become the most important meeting in Sara's career.

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Sara's body language belied her willingness to be there.

Sitting totally erect, arms folded around herself protectively, she seemed to waver slightly as if she had imbibed a bit too much within the last hour.

In fact, she had stopped drinking after she finished the one Ecklie bought her, having asked her to join him in his booth at the bar.

That was over three hours ago.

The Sheriff observed her from behind his desk as he perfunctorily asked that his calls be held, that he not be disturbed, that his "special team" be assembled.

Before he let her speak, he reached into his locked desk drawer and pulled out a thin file.

Slapping it onto the desk, he opened it, twisted his pen to expose the point, and laid it on the open file. She watched him write her name on it.

He settled back and simply stated, "Now, Sara…tell me."

Maybe it was because she was tired.

Maybe because her system had not fully recovered from the substance Ecklie had slipped into her drink.

But Sara found herself telling him willingly something she had just sworn on her life to never repeat to anyone.

"Conrad Ecklie murdered Holly Gribbs."

What surprised Sara most was that the Sheriff did not seem to react to the news.

He stared at her for a long moment, causing her to release her arms and again throw them up in the air.

"What? You think I am making this up?"

Still nothing.

"Fine. You know what? Forget it. Forget I said anything. It's the good ole boy network as usual!"

Sara stood angrily to leave, but found herself collapsing to the floor with the sudden movement.

She was caught by the strong arm of the Sheriff who was carrying her to his sofa.

After a while, her vision stabilized. She lay there, staring at the Sheriff, feeling embarrassed by the fainting spell. She never fainted. _What was wrong with her_?

The kindness the Sheriff showed her gave her an insight into the real man behind the badge.

Seeing that they were now in much less threatening postures, the Sheriff leaned back after helping her with another sip of bottled water.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit," Sara confessed, pulling herself up into a seated position. The Sheriff was heartened that her usual "fine" was missing in her response to his inquiry.

"Sara…I suppose if I expect you to trust me, I should extend some effort on my part to make you worthy of that trust.

I have been sitting on some information for the last year that directly implicates Conrad in the death of Holly Gribbs. Also, I suspect that he has been responsible for the random attacks on some of our female personnel here in the lab."

"I…hadn't been aware…"

"That's because I have beefed up security quietly, installed more cameras in the halls, the labs, the parking lots…" he replied, noting he now had her full attention.

"I have nothing substantial enough to take to the D.A. I have tried on my own to ferret out the truth, but someone who knows how to hide evidence well always seems a step ahead of me."

"Ecklie…" Sara said softly to no one in particular.

"So Sara, tell me what happened to you tonight. It really could be the break we've been waiting for."

"We?"

The Sheriff smiled. He knew Sara was bright, but she was showing herself to be cautiously interested in detail. This would make her very valuable to the team.

And Sara had already proven herself a team player.

He recalled asking for a meeting with her some time back, to commend her on collecting crucial evidence in a high profile case. She had made him look _very_ good in the eyes of the media. He had wanted to thank her personally.

He first began his suspicions about their unspoken feelings for each other when Grissom decided to join Sara for the meeting, ostensibly as her supervisor. But it would have taken a blind man not to see that he was there to ward off any possible problems with the Sheriff.

Sara had made sure he heard about Nick, Warrick, and Catherine's part in working towards the desired result. He smiled now as he remembered how she _conveniently_ forgot to mention her own very critical role in bringing the perpetrator to justice.

Sara was all about _team_.

And the Sheriff wanted her to be on _his_.

He leaned forward. He knew it was time to pull off the kid gloves.

"Sara, I have assembled a very elite, very under-the-radar undercover team to investigate my suspicions about Ecklie. If your story details the type of information I think it will, _you_ could be the driving force behind getting him off the streets once and for all."

Sara sat up, still a bit woozy, but with eyes that burned with the enthusiasm the Sheriff had come to recognize. She wanted in.

So she told about Ecklie in the bar, inviting her to join him.

She told about having had a few, perhaps one too many, and accepting his offer.

She recalled that, even in her 'happy state', the alarm bells had sounded as he looked directly at the bar tender giving him "that look" when he asked for another round.

She did not think much of it at the time, but now she did say how odd it was that the bar tender himself delivered the drinks to their table.

The Sheriff stood and retrieved his folder, making some cryptic notes before asking her to continue.

She paused, as if she was fighting a personal impulse to bury the memory.

Shaking her head as if to clear it, she looked him directly in the eyes as she continued.

Ecklie told her she was very desirable.

That he wanted her.

That he _would_ have her.

Sara had laughed at this. She had received many odd propositions in her life, but this topped the lot.

She stopped laughing when she looked into his dead-serious eyes.

She started to leave, but was too lightheaded to make it out of the booth.

"But Sara, our conversation isn't over…" Ecklie had mocked her, moving his leg suggestively upwards on her long extremity.

He leaned forward and took another sip of his drink.

"You see, Sara, I _will_ have you. Or Grissom will suffer the consequences."

Normally, Sara was outwardly unflappable whenever Grissom was mentioned.

With the substance that had been added to her drink as prearranged with the bartender, the situation was now anything but normal.

She started to stammer, begging him not to hurt Grissom.

Ecklie smiled.

She was going to be his.

_Of course_, he planned on ruining Grissom anyway.

Sara pleaded again, asking him not to hurt Grissom.

"Oh, I won't touch him. The police will do that."

Now, Sara was becoming more disoriented and her confusion was amplified by Ecklie's riddle.

"Then how?..."

Ecklie laughed and swigged his drink again.

"By framing him for the murder of Holly Gribbs." he said matter-of-factly.

At this juncture in the story, the Sheriff put down his pen and stared at Sara with wide eyes.

"He said _what_?"

Sara however, with the concoction still in her system, was starting to relive the nightmare firsthand as the past and present overlapped for her.

"How can you do that? Grissom had nothing to do with that murder! I was there! I helped review the investigation! He was nowhere near her when she was killed! How can you say that?"

She was yelling now. The Sheriff grabbed her by the shoulders and took a long look into her eyes. He realized what was happening and talked reassuringly to her until she calmed down a bit.

He offered her some more water. The familiarity of the action seemed to bring her back to the present.

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After a bit, satisfied that she could continue, the Sheriff asked,

"Sara, what did Ecklie have that incriminated Grissom?"

She gritted her teeth and sneered, "Ecklie admitted quite candidly that he was the one. He killed her because she rejected his advances. He showed up at her first crime scene, watching Warrick and Holly go into the house. When he saw Warrick drive off, he knew she was alone.

Ecklie had appeared in the room, ostensibly sent to replace Warrick. He donned his latex gloves, and opened his kit. They talked for a while, then he made his move.

Holly was repulsed by him, and slapped him, hard. But she was wearing her gloves, so he left no direct evidence on her body.

They struggled and he tried to overpower her. He used some kind of pressure point submission technique. He had told her it doesn't leave a mark but makes you unconscious.

He started to have his way with her, but heard the suspect enter the stairwell, returning to the scene of his earlier crime.

The guy came into the room and found her on the floor. He made his way curiously towards her, when Ecklie appeared from his hiding place behind the door and overpowered him.

He grabbed the intruder's gun, he took his phone, and he knocked him to the floor with brutal force. This caused the man's lip to bleed, leaving more incriminating evidence smeared onto the flooring.

By now, the adrenaline was pumping and Ecklie looked at her body on the floor.

His face was starting to smart where she slapped him, and his irrational anger overtook him.

He picked up the gun and fired it into her twice.

Then, Ecklie turned towards the stunned intruder.

"Get out. They _are_ going to find you. We have you dead to rights on the original warrant. And now, _you_ are going to take the rap for _this_, as well."

The man was shaking his head violently.

Ecklie grabbed him by the collar, twisting it until his eyes bulged painfully.

"Oh, you'll do it. Or the same thing will happen to you. Besides," he said, releasing him and dusting off his lapels, "who will they believe? A low life like you, or one of LVPD's finest?"

Ecklie laughed at the defeat he saw in the intruder's eyes.

"Better hurry, not much freedom left for you to enjoy!"

The man fled. Ecklie hurried. There was still more to do.

He had opened his case and removed some personal items of Grissom's he had stolen over time from his office and his locker. Each contained his fingerprints or DNA.

After contaminating certain items of Holly's with either or both of these things, he first photographed them near her body, then seal-wrapped them before returning them to the evidence envelope in his kit.

Then he proceeded to scour the room for any incriminating evidence implicating him at this scene, to be certain the intruder took the fall.

Blowing her a kiss from the doorway, Ecklie exited the building.

Once outside he removed his gloves and blue disposable shoe coverings, placing them in his kit. Then he had sauntered towards his vehicle and drove back to the lab.

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The Sheriff was nodding slightly as he continued taking notes.

Sara had the feeling he honestly believed her.

Maybe Grissom would be safe after all.

That thought spurred her on.

"At the table, Ecklie produced three photographs. They were of the planted evidence. He even dusted one of her hands for defensive wounds. The photo showed the fingerprint clearly. That would have been the most damning evidence," Sara said.

"Of course, he cleaned the scene well after the photo was taken. No one was ever the wiser," her voice trailed off as she again was deep in thought.

"Sara…what did you do when he showed you this evidence?"

She hung her head for a moment. She guessed this next revelation would be the hardest thing to admit.

"I asked him why he thought I wouldn't turn him in for the murder. He smiled and said he had also fabricated a file, using the FBI database computers, to implicate me as an accomplice. He said he had compiled "proof" that Grissom had asked me to come here to continue our long-term arrangement of my "need to advance professionally…in return for sexual favors". "

Her mind recalled the look on Ecklie's face when he issued his ultimatum. This was one part of the conversation she did not share with the Sheriff.

"_So you see, Sara, either you play nice or Grissom goes down. Even, if for some reason, the murder charge won't stick, the scandal of the sex-for-hire will finish his career."_

Sara knew a dead end when she saw one.

"I leaned over unsteadily, fully realizing now that he had drugged me for the purposes of having his way with me whether I agreed or not. But I felt I had no choice but to submit. It was the only way…." Sara closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

The next part of the story brought the events of the night back into focus.

"He helped me out of the booth. He had to help me out, I was so weakened by the drug. Although my conscious mind was determined to go through with it at all costs, I unconsciously started pushing him away from me as he tried to lick my ear as we walked. My hands pushed at his chest, but he just laughed and led us to his car.

The car ride to my apartment was a blur of lights, sounds, and images.

Reaching my place, he took the keychain I managed to retrieve from my pocket and forced the door open before cruelly tossing me to the floor.

He was so pumped, he wasn't even going to take his jacket off before….he…."

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Sara stopped. She sat back and closed her eyes.

It was one thing to survive it the first time.

It was quite another to relive it.

The Sheriff moved from his chair to sit next to her on the sofa.

In an uncharacteristic move, he took her hand.

They sat there for a long time, him presenting a shoulder to lean on and her accepting the support.

Finally, she began the final chapter of the grueling confession.

"I was reeling from the drugs, the abusive slamming of my body onto the hardwood floor, and the pain of knowing my sacrifice might not even really mean Grissom was out of danger.

But I only knew I _had_ to try.

He wouldn't suffer because I was too afraid of Ecklie.

Ecklie started pulling off my shoes, unzipping my khakis, and ripping them off my body.

He had started work on his own zipper when Warrick started banging on the door, yelling my name, demanding that someone open the door or he would knock it down with his bare hands.

Ecklie was swearing a blue streak, and lay on top of me. I could feel his erection painfully. He butted against me a few times, licked my neck, and planted a painfully harsh kiss on my mouth.

As Warrick continued to bang on the door, Ecklie whispered, "This isn't over, Sara…don't forget, you _owe_ me…you're mine now…and I can be _very _patient…_remember_, if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, that evidence will find its way into the Sheriff's hands by morning."

And with that, he stood and moved towards the back door, pausing for one more warning, "Better keep Warrick's mouth closed, too."

He opened the door and slipped into the cover of night.

I finally was able to stand and admit Warrick. When he saw my condition he wanted to call 911. I wouldn't let him.

He helped me dress and made some coffee.

He's been trying to get me to file charges against Ecklie.

He said he'd do it himself, but he had nothing to base his charges on.

He threatened to call Brass and have me taken to the ER.

I compromised and said I would come to the lab and have Doc check me over to prove to him that I was fine, that he hadn't laid a hand on me.

When we got here, I was having second thoughts. That's when you found us."

She took the bottle the Sheriff offered her and took a long, reflective drink.

Taking a deep breath, she now turned her body to look into his contemplative eyes.

"That's the whole story. So now you know.

I believe Ecklie at his word.

If you file charges, he will ruin an innocent man's reputation.

I couldn't live with that."

"Sara," the Sheriff began, but she cut him off.

"If you force the issue, I will recant the entire story.

This is not up for negotiation.

I will not be responsible for ruining the career of such an important man."

Was he…_smiling_? Sara was incensed.

Before she could protest, he raised a hand to stop her.

"Suppose I told you there was a way to get Ecklie off the streets for good? One that would spare Grissom any harm?"

"And Grissom would not have to know about it at all? Or my part in it?"

The Sheriff nodded.

Sara stood up, ready to begin the fight to nail Ecklie.

"Tell me what I have to do."

And that was how Sara became part of the undercover team whose objective was to gather enough incriminating evidence on Ecklie's sexually obsessive behaviors to link him to the rash of attacks on female lab personnel, eventually linking him to the murder of Holly Gribbs.

------------------------------------------------

Having left the Sheriff that day, Sara had sought out Warrick in the lab. She had found him in the breakroom, alone. In an unusual move, she had closed and locked the door before joining him on the couch.

They looked at each other for a moment – he, trying to ascertain her physical and emotional state (had she told the Sheriff about Ecklie?); she, trying to figure out how to get him to keep her secret (how much can I safely reveal to him?)

Knowing their privacy was a time-sensitive commodity, they both began to speak hurriedly. They stopped, then both began again. This caused them to smile while releasing a laugh, breaking the tension. Sara went first.

"Thank you, Warrick. You were my hero tonight. If you hadn't been there…"

"Sara," he took her hand. "Be the hero. Send Ecklie up for what he did to you tonight."

She chose her next words carefully. If a half-truth really a lie?

She told him her fear of Ecklie exposing Grissom to the revelation concerning the file of forged correspondences. Warrick stared at her in disbelief. He now understood why she was adamant to keep the police out of this matter.

He had covered his face in his hands. _This still isn't right. The bastard can attack her again, and she… She can't do this. Grissom wouldn't want her to let him just…_

She saw the indecision in his movement. She had to go for broke. _He was going to hate her_.

"There's one more thing. Ecklie didn't force me."

Warrick moved his hands to stare at her.

She braced herself for his disgusted departure, for him to fly away from her as he wiped his hands of her, for him to call her a …

What she didn't expect was his large hand covering hers.

She couldn't look at him at first. He brought her glistening eyes to his.

"Oh, Sara…" was all he could say before taking her into his protective embrace.

"Grissom would _never_ agree to let you sacrifice yourself…like _that_…for him…"

"You can never tell, 'Ric. Not _anyone_. Not _ever_. Or…I will have to leave here."

The revelation caused him to pull back and look at her.

"Please, 'Ric. This is the only… the _closest_ place to home I have. Please. You can never tell anyone."

"Sara, Grissom needs to…"

"NO!" She pulled away and stood as if he had burned her with that thought.

"If he finds out…if he _ever_ finds out…I…I will just disappear…I couldn't bear it…you have to give me your word, Warrick…or I'm gone tonight…"

He stood and approached her.

She meant every word.

For a moment, their glances dueled.

He finally gave in.

What good would be served, anyway, if she left?

Two careers, hell, _two_ lives would be ruined, and Ecklie would _still _get away with it.

_He had no proof to support what he knew._

_He had no argument to change her mind, because his rational side knew she was right._

_Like Sara, he had no choice._

_He couldn't be her protector. But he could be her friend._

He reached out and grabbed her tightly in his embrace.

He wanted to shield her from her pain.

Aware that they needed to end this conversation and reopen the door before they were discovered, he released her but kept her gaze.

He felt a sigh emerge from the depths of a heart breaking for this most courageous woman.

"I _promise_."

--------------------------------------------------

Sara had worked doubles and triples throughout the next few years, and did indeed spend most of her overtime on the case assigned. However, when working through Ecklie's shift (which was most every double) she would make time to confidentially sift through memos of mysterious attacks, pornographic content left in employees' lockers, and complaints of various other acts of a sexually intensive nature by an unknown assailant that were filed through the supervisors and had crossed the Sheriff's desk.

While she was undercover, the Sheriff _had _made several stipulations for her safety.   
-She was not to have direct contact with Ecklie unless there was another party around.

-She was to ask for escorts or contact him directly if she felt Ecklie became a direct threat to her.

-For her own safety, she was not to tell _anyone_ about the existence of, or her part in, the undercover team.

For his part, the Sheriff didn't trust Ecklie and had worried about Sara's safety.

For this reason, unbeknownst to Sara, he had assigned two of his Elite Force as paid lab techs working graveyard shift. When Sara pulled a double or triple, they would split the shifts so someone responsible to reporting to the Sheriff alone was always monitoring Sara when Ecklie made an appearance in the lab.

He felt this subset of the undercover team earned its pay the night Ecklie assaulted Sara in the hallway and marched her to his office.

If they had not run and alerted Doc and Brass, Sara might not have survived that encounter.

Of course, the Sheriff had not fully understood the emotional investment Grissom had made in protecting Sara until the lab techs reported on his rescue of Sara from Ecklie's hands.

The Sheriff had secretly loved the part of the story when Gil decked that son-of-a-bitch.

Still, the event raised some puzzling questions.

What had happened to the file his undercover lab techs had reported was being compiled by Catherine Willows, but then mysteriously disappeared from Grissom's office?

Who was now in possession of it?

If Ecklie didn't have it, then was the Sheriff perhaps looking at yet _another_ individual that might need to become a target of his clandestine surveillance?

-------------------------------------------------

The driver had pulled into his reserved spot behind the building at the morgue entrance.

The Sheriff hadn't thought much of what needed to happen with Warrick.

Although tonight's events may have left him no choice, the Sheriff still had concerns about broadening the circle at this critical time.

He knew Grissom would be a concern as well.

But Ecklie was becoming much more of a danger than the Sheriff had anticipated.

There was a deep concern that his obsessive, predatory behavior was escalating – and Sara continued to remain his primary target.

Getting that evidence file and getting Ecklie off the streets was becoming a necessity, before he made another attempt on Sara.

His undercover team had compiled an adequate file on Ecklie. However, the Sheriff was still waiting.

He wanted that fictional file linking Grissom to Holly Gribbs.

Sara needed that found and destroyed so that she could move on with her life.

But Ecklie played _that _card close to the chest.

----------------------------------------------

As he entered the building, the story of Sara's inclusion into the Elite Force played over in his mind.

He had never regretted recruiting her for this special assignment. Her insights had been valuable and her integrity kept her silence, making the case against Ecklie stronger by the month.

Having reached his office door, he paused before placing his hand on the doorknob.

_No, he had __never__ regretting including Sara on the team._

_But Sofia? Now _that_ was another matter…_


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Thanks for the many positive reviews on the last chapter! All the new reviewers have my thanks for making those great suggestions and observations. My loyal reviewers continue to have my gratitude, and the many other readers who continue to support this story make the effort worthwhile. The next update whenever…it is another week of night meetings, etc. I like to think of this chapter as "setting the stage", a bit milder than the last two, but important in its own right. Thanks for staying with this story. You remain terrific! –Kathy

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He hadn't paced or ranted.

He just kept sitting in the padded visitor's chair in the Sheriff's office, contemplating on what had occurred this evening.

And was what now happening to Sara.

He hadn't even realized that over six hours had transpired since he had been escorted to this room.

Once safely inside, the officers were surprisingly cordial to him. They removed the handcuffs immediately, and one of them started to make coffee.

About two hours ago, there had been a delivery of sandwiches and the evening paper.

All the comforts of a night at home.

Only…Sara had been injured, and he still did not know how badly.

He was still seething, as it was Grissom's fault that she had been alone.

There was no comfort in _that_.

Warrick's patience surprised the officers. They didn't realize how actively his investigator's brain had theorized over the evidence.

_She had gone by ambulance, he had heard it as they were driving here._

_The Sheriff himself was personally dealing with Sara. That meant a criminal activity, such as a rape, had occurred._

_Brass nor any other team member were on scene. That meant the Sheriff was taking charge of the case. That made her injuries of the critical kind._

_There had been no word from the hospital. This probably meant surgery, and with a normal surgical timetable, right about this section of the time frame, it would be about time for Sara to now be in recovery._

_No news is good news._

_They hadn't arrested him. That meant he wasn't a suspect, but they were worried he might go after the suspect, or tip their hand if he saw the suspect._

_The only suspect that he might go after was… _Ecklie

This thought made the entire evening's events replay in a maddening light before his narrowed eyes.

This is how the Sheriff found him as he strode authoritatively into his office.

Warrick stood to face him. "How is she?"

The Sheriff looked at him for a long moment, turned to his officers to indicate they could leave, and then sat a bit heavily onto his desk chair.

Warrick sat down again, leaning forward to await an answer to his query. He was getting a bit agitated after his long wait.

The Sheriff sighed. "Sara underwent surgery to stop some internal bleeding. In addition, she had suffered a head injury that doctors believe is the cause of her unconscious state. When I left, she still had not regained consciousness."

Warrick pounded his fists on the desk, leaning expressively towards the Sheriff.

"Ecklie did this! Why aren't you arresting him? What does he have to do to garner some attention around here!"

By the time he finished, he was almost yelling. In an attempt to get his emotions under control, he twisted away from the desk and started pacing.

The Sheriff observed Warrick's movements.

_How much should I let him in? Can he be a help or will he turn into a hindrance? I don't want Ecklie to get away with this…dammit!... if I could just find that file…_

"Brown…tell me what you know about Sara's…involvement…with Ecklie."

Warrick grimace painfully at the sound of those words being combined into one complete thought.

"Sara is _not _"involved" with Ecklie. He was blackmailing her to get to Grissom."

That revelation sparked the Sheriff's interest. Just what _had_ Sara divulged to Warrick?

"Go on, please," the Sheriff replied with outward calm and inwardly his heart rate shot skyward.

Warrick sighed. "He had some trumped up emails he fabricated using the FBI database. It made it look like…" he could hardly continue, "like Sara…was trading sexual favors with Grissom to obtain evaluations that could help her get ahead…promoted."

"Anything else?" the Sheriff asked worriedly.

"ANYTHING ELSE??? ISN'T THAT ENOUGH????" a frustrated Warrick snapped.

"Yes, I would say that is cause for great concern." The Sheriff breathed a small sigh, mostly in relief that the murder investigation was safe for now.

"Sheriff, cut to the chase. Why am I here…and what can I do to help Sara?"

The Sheriff decided on a plan. With any luck, the same plan would work with Grissom.

He would allow them to join in their investigation of this recent incident without divulging the special team or Sara's involvement with it.

The Sheriff would insist that Warrick work off the record and report solely to him in any matters concerning Sara or Ecklie. This way, he would retain control of any interactions with Ecklie, assuring in some degree that the original investigation would not be compromised.

When he offered the plan to Warrick, he stood eagerly to accept.

The first assignment given was to process the townhouse. With a sigh, Warrick turned towards the door, intent on getting his kit and beginning the task – albeit with a heavy heart.

As he was leaving, the Sheriff called his name, reminding him again, "Remember, if you approach Ecklie or say anything to him concerning this matter, you will put Sara in greater danger than before. Keep that in mind, Warrick, and keep this matter confidential. _No exceptions."_

_No exceptions? What about Brass, Nick…Grissom?_

He opened his mouth to speak, but the Sheriff lifted a hand and repeated, "_No exceptions._ Sara's life may depend on it."

They passed a knowing look between them, and Warrick turned and headed out the door towards the lab.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Nick was furious. He was sitting in the break room and was increasingly agitated at not being able to raise a single team member by cell phone.

_What has happened tonight? Party no one told me about? Isn't _anybody_ coming in for shift?_

He had been an investigator long enough to know that when hairs on the back of your head stand on end, there is something you should be paying attention to.

He knew Grissom was working on his plan to get information from Sofia.

Neither Grissom nor Sofia were here or answering his pages.

He knew Sara was still recuperating and that Warrick had the night off.

But neither of them were answering their phones.

He knew that Catherine and Brass were on call, but again they were not responding to _his_ call.

There was only one thing left to do. If he wanted answers, there would be one person who would know where the team was assigned.

With a sigh and an uneasy feeling, Nick headed towards Ecklie's office.

-----------------------------------------

An hour earlier, Catherine had been at the hospital.

She was not a happy camper.

First, Brass had called her to get to the Desert Palms ER as soon as possible to run an evidence kit on an assault victim. Totally off-the-record.

_Smacked of a VIP who found themselves on the wrong side of the tracks._

When she had arrived and identified herself, a uniformed officer from the Sheriff's own patrol had escorted her to this private waiting room. Three hours later, no work, no vic, no more patience!

Finally, an officer came in and sat down. He proceeded to tell Catherine that the victim had needed some emergency surgery. The Sheriff's order was that she could stand down, but that she was to leave her kit – which would be returned to her after the evidence was collected.

Catherine hit the roof.. "MY kit. MY evidence collection."

The officer stood, looming over her. "Ms. Willows, this is not up for discussion. The kit stays. _You_ are dismissed." With that he reached down, handled the kit, and strode out the door.

Catherine was indignant. She pulled out her phone and speed dialed Grissom.

She was glad to hear it ring. She was furious when it went to voice mail.

Storming through the doorway, she stomped out of the hospital lobby in such a state that wheelchairs went into reverse to prevent contact with her wake.

She was going to get answers.

If she wanted answers, there would be one person who would know where the team was assigned.

Purposefully, but with an uneasy feeling, Catherine sped out of the hospital lot and headed towards Ecklie's office.

--------------------------------------------------

Brass was still sitting in his squad car, securing the scene.

He continued to replay the events in his head. He wondered how Sara was, if Grissom was with her, if Catherine had been able to…

His heart heavy sigh pushed those thoughts away. If Ecklie had touched her…

Revenge scenarios played out in his mind. Sara had always laughed and kidded him that she was a CSI, and she knew how to hide a body.

Right now, that sounded like a pretty good plan…

The lights of Warrick's car brought him out of his reverie. A frustrated sigh pierced the quiet of the night, as Brass bounded out of his car and stomped towards Warrick's car as he put it in park.

Brass greeted him with a "Where the hell have you been?"

Warrick thought fast. "I was just taking a little breather to get myself back in control. It was nasty there tonight. Grissom…there was nothing to go off about. He just started…and I got steamed. He said, then I said, then Sara just ….left.

A short while ago, I got a call to this address. Is Grissom around? I don't want to start anything here…I am just here to do a job."

"No can do, Brown," Brass said as Warrick began rolling up the window. "This is a secured scene."

"I know, Brass, I have been sent by the Sheriff to process it." With that, he should him a handwritten communiqué on the Sheriff's personal office stationary.

Brass read and reread it. Reluctantly, he stepped aside and followed Warrick into the townhouse.

They stood still for a moment, before Warrick set down his kit.

There was not much physical evidence of an attempted rape. There was however, the matter of the mini-carnage.

"Aw…no…" was all Warrick could say as he looked at the small piles of litter on the flooring.

"Sara…she loved these little guys…"Warrick said with some emotion.

"Do you think she knows?" he turned to Brass, hopefully.

"She was unconscious when they took her out. No way of knowing until we have a chance to talk with her."

Warrick squared his jaw and went into super-CSI mode.

"Everything by the book. He is NOT going to get away with this!"

Brass' ears perked up. Did Warrick know something?

"Hey, 'Ric. Spill. What do you know about all this?" Brass asked expectantly.

Warrick gritted his teeth, remembering the Sheriff's stern warning, "…_no exceptions…you could put Sara in greater danger than before…"_

"I know that when I finish processing this scene, I am going to find the son of a bitch who did this and …" he closed his eyes to regain control, "… and see to it personally that the jury throws away the key."

With that, he turned his back on Brass, effectively ending the mini-interrogation, his secrets safe for now.

Brass cocked his head to one side as he continued to watch Warrick throw himself into his work.

_Something….there is something about this…_

-----------------------------------------

Ecklie was steaming. He was coming off his scotch-induced high. He was a man who, because of obsession with Sara, had worked himself into such a sexual frenzy that his body screamed for release.

He fixated on Sara now, and was driven to distraction about how he had _almost_ had her.

He could almost feel the soft flesh of her legs wrapped around him.

He could almost inhale her scent as he entered her.

He could almost feel her walls wrapping around him…

He was furious now that he had given in to the urgent need to kill those butterflies.

"They took away the few moments I would have been able to "enjoy" her…maybe give her time to enjoy a "second helping"…with me as dessert….mmmm….feeling those lips as they invited me in…mmmm…"

He was so far into his fantasy that he almost ignored the tapping, then knocking on his door. Once the sound reclaimed him from his daydream, he barked for them to enter. Ecklie was careful to keep his painful erection from view, seated as he was behind his desk.

Sofia entered, a mystifying smile on her face. It had been a nice evening with Grissom, followed by the companionship of some very interesting new friends.

She was almost over the effects of her beverage choice, the matter of several rounds of foreplay-only in a booth at the bar bringing her back into focus.

And then there was still the matter of Grissom.

She could still imagine the feel of his strong hands claiming hers across the table.

She could still see the heat from those deep blue orbs as they undressed her under his gaze.

She could still feel her arousal as she leaned towards him in conversation.

She wanted him. Badly.

And that little bitch had interrupted her plans yet again.

This was how Sofia entered Ecklie's office, sauntering in with one objective, feeling her body screaming for release.

"Sofia, it is _so_ nice to see you…" Ecklie began, already beginning to undress her with his eyes.

"Conrad," she replied coyly, seating herself provocatively on the inside edge of his desk. "You say the _sweetest_ things."

He stopped looking into her eyes. A bead of sweat began to form on his forehead. In his present state, Sofia's body language was pushing him over the edge.

He stood abruptly, planting himself between her slightly parted legs. Forcing himself deeply between them, his erection brushed tightly against the material below the zipper of her khakis, causing Sofia to moan pleasurably.

That was all the assent he required. Release was in his grasp, and it was going to be pleasurable indeed.

And with that, Ecklie's firm hands grabbed Sofia tightly against him, causing her to lock her legs around him. He twisted them, quickly kneeling in the area behind his desk. His large desk hiding them from view, he made quick work of removing her clothes…then made quick work of _her_…

All this was happening while Nick and Catherine were swiftly moving down converging hallways with the express purpose of slamming his door wide open and demanding some answers.

----------------------------------------------

There had been a slight elevation in Sara's heart rate. The latest physical examination by her doctor had left him with some encouraging news.

After the exam, a tray of take-out was delivered for Grissom, who initially refused it. The orders had come from the Sheriff that meals were to be provided, with a handwritten request to eat and rest so as to keep up his strength. Sara was going to need him.

That had done the trick. Grissom had eaten some, and then stood to work the crick out his lower back. He turned to gaze upon Sara's sleeping form. That was when he first noticed it.

A single tear was threatening to fall from her resting eyelid.

He sat quickly and took her hand. He placed his forehead over it, moving then to brush his lips over her slender fingers that were still so cold…so cold…

Grissom sighed in worry, his trepidation at her precarious state assaulting his own eyes with tears. He closed his eyes for just a moment, to try to regain his composure.

He had only meant to close them for a moment…

When he saw her again, seated with her back to him as she looked out over the tranquil bay, he couldn't contain his emotion.

He ran towards her, tears of relief now flooding his eyes, the anticipation of having her again in his arms almost too much to bear.

When he was closer, he started calling to her joyfully.

He watched her turn to him slowly, then stand there – just staring at him.

Her tear-streaked face had a look that stopped him dead in his tracks.

She ran the back of her sandy hand over her waterlogged cheeks, before choking out,

"Explain to me….about Sofia."


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: You can thank a snow day/sick day in the northeast. This cough is better when I am sitting up, so I figured I could just as easily sit up at the keyboard. Thanks and thanks again for the reviews and the many readers who support this story. Things are beginning to heat up. But I needed a bit more GSR today. Hope you won't mind. wink . Next update whenever…but soon as I can. You continue to remain wonderful. –Kathy

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"No."

Gil was moving forward slowly, so he could maintain eye contact.

"No."

Sara stood there, weary from the heartbreak she had experienced while alone, for what seemed like forever, after he had left her there.

"…remember…"

His parting words had brought her comfort, recalling how gently and beautifully he had made love to her. That memory had sustained her for a while after he had returned.

But then her subconscious _did _start to remember.

At first, Sara had been so confused about how she had returned here. His words began a mental process that, though foggy, had led her to recall the major events of the night which caused her injuries and left her alone in what had been _their_ Better Place.

"…remember…"

Sitting alone, distracted by the warmth and the waves, her mind had started to piece together the puzzle…

-the bathtub

-the slamming of the door

-Warrick's rescue

-leaving off the porch light

-watching Gil hold _Sofia's _hand

-seeing him…smile into _Sofia's _eyes

-the protective gentleness of Warrick's hands on Sara's wrists

-seeing Grissom drag him from their booth

-knocking Warrick to the ground, twice, with blows to the face

-running away

-running…right into Ecklie's hands…

She sat alone, hugging herself fiercely. She remembered – and she was terrified on several levels.

The tears came – from her fear that she would be abandoned and alone here, but also that she would be also be abandoned and alone when she returned. _If_ she returned.

But he had made love to her.

He had professed his love with his body, his words, and his heart.

She had believed him.

She _still_ believed him.

But she was so conflicted.

She needed him to explain.

Sara's mind concocted many stories to help her deal with the memories.

He was trying to persuade Sofia again not to leave the lab…

He was trying to help her through a personal crisis…

He was trying to wheedle information out of her…

None of those explanations seemed plausible.

Sofia _had _seduced him.

But, had he acquiesced willing?

Sara had never felt so alone.

"…remember…"

Those memories made her head swim, painful jolts deep inside her brain that misfired from a spot just above her left ear.

Sara braced her head with her hands, the increasingly sharp pain causing a small tear to form from beneath her closed eyelids.

Her head was not the only part of her that was hurting. The combination brought down her self-control.

And then the tears just kept falling.

Her head was hurting…her heart was breaking…

She needed him to explain.

She needed to hear from his own mouth, convincingly, that Gil Grissom did not desire Sofia Curtis.

She needed to feel his arms around her again, pledging his love, telling her how she was his one and only.

_His one and only._

In her lifetime, she had been forced to share almost everything.

She could count on one hand the really important facets of life that she could truly call her own.

Sara didn't think she could bear having to share his heart, on any level, with another person – _particularly_ Sofia.

Her whole life had been a succession of putting her own heart out there, searching for a true love who had eyes for _her _and _only_ for _her_.

She wanted the fairytale.

She thought she had found her happy ending.

In the confusion of her thoughts, now Sara could only see Sofia as an insurmountable obstacle to her happily ever after.

She couldn't compete.

She wouldn't even know how to try.

So as Gil was just appearing on the scene, Sara had spun herself into such a state that even though her body ached to have him hold her, she had halted him with the Sidle glare and made her demand:

"Explain to me….about Sofia."

Had he said _NO_?

She blinked and continued to watch him move slowly forward.

"No."

Gil kept repeating his answer, increasingly agitated.

Sara could see that he was fighting to maintain control, his hands were clenched and his eyes were so – focused.

She had seen that look right before he pulled Warrick out of the booth.

_Oh, no…was he angry at her statement???? _

_Was he going to hurt _her_ as he had hurt Warrick????_

_If Gil would hurt her, where would she turn for comfort?_

_Please, DON'T GIL!!!_

Her mind was reacting irrationally due to her increased awareness of the real pain from her head wound.

Her fear was real, too.

Sara instinctively began to back away, but Gil was there before she could run.

He moved quickly to capture her in his arms, to prevent her from darting.

He could feel her body quaking under his touch.

The look in her eyes seemed…different.

She seemed so…oh, my lord…_she was afraid?…of _him

He pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Sweetheart…Sara…calm down…I love you…I _love_ you…I'm _here_…oh, thank the heavens, I can hold you again…shhh…calm down…I have you…no one will hurt you while I am here…shhh…"

Sara's body reacted to his endearments, and immediately relaxed in his embrace.

She felt so foolish…Gil Grissom would give his _life_ rather than harm a hair on her head.

She knew that as well as she knew how to breathe. _Why _was she being so _irrational_?

This _pain_ … it must be doing something to her thought process.

But…what about Sofia?

_WHAT ABOUT SOFIA?_

"What about Sofia? Tell me…explain…I don't –"

"No," he refused again.

He pulled back and cupped her cheek with his right hand.

"I will not waste _one second_ talking about that little –" he clamped closed his mouth, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.

His rage at the injustice Sara had suffered because of Sofia's trickery was difficult for him to subdue.

How could he fully explain his steaming anger that his initial impressions of Sofia had proven correct? How could he fully explain that he had worried about Sofia, but had not been able to decipher the situation and protect Sara from the aftermath of Sofia's deviousness?

Sofia was a piranha, devouring the labor of, and getting ahead on the backs of, good people like his Sara, to obtain personal status and advancement.

Sofia was a call girl in uniform, waiting to give the next influential guy all she had – expecting that she would reap the same when he reciprocated with a career builder.

Sofia was a person he needed to keep close, to spot her next victim and perhaps distract her from her planned malevolence.

She was, for some reason he didn't comprehend, interested in Gil Grissom.

He wasn't sure what reward she thought she would get from pulling _him_ into a tryst, but he _was_ sure that Sofia couldn't have _any_ other reason to have designs on _him_.

He promised himself he would not stop until Sara received the recognition due for her work in cracking the high profile case.

He wasn't going to let _anyone_ step on Sara Sidle anymore.

He pulled back again and kissed her softly, longingly, passionately.

_He loves _me. The thought ran, painfully, through Sara's now-throbbing brain.

Gil broke the kiss and gulped a breath before adding, "I don't know how long we have, Sara.

I want my only words to be about how I _love_ you. Hold on to _this _memory, my darling Sara.

I want my only actions to be about how I _love _you. Hold on to _this_ memory, my only love.

I want you only, Sara, to hold my heart. Keep it safe. Let it beat within you, reminding you that you - and you, _alone_, he emphasized with a tightening grip - Sara Sidle, are _My. One. And. Only._ Hold on to my heart, Sara…until we can be together again."

Sara felt…odd. She pulled away weakly to stare into his eyes.

There was undeniable love there.

She tried to smile, but the pain was getting more difficult to ignore.

Her legs were getting weaker.

Gil reacted to this change in her demeanor with a worried scan over her face and body.

He picked up her lithe form and lay her down on the soft sands of the beach.

She was prone, staring out into the calmness of the waves. She felt she could hear the beating of her heart joined along with his heart, as he lay pressed closely behind her, continually whispering in her ear, "Hold on to my love, Sara…hold on…hold on…"

He awoke with a start.

He ached from the loss of contact with her.

He reached for her hand.

His arms felt cold without her held tightly in his embrace.

But her hand was warm to his touch.

-------------------------------------------------

Brass had returned to sit out on the front stoop while Warrick continued to process the townhouse.

Why had Brass' thoughts continued to revolve around Ecklie?

His years in law enforcement gave him a type of mental "peripheral vision". This ability allowed him to take an entire deck of fact cards and reconfigure them into groups of plausible players and motives.

This attack on Sara had Ecklie holding _all_ the cards.

He could see Grissom's disapproving look mentally, chastising him to "follow the evidence, it never lies."

Yet, there _was _no physical proof.

And actually no _motive_, save the intense hatred Ecklie imbued into every look and action he had ever directed towards Sara Sidle.

Brass' thoughts rambled. His unconscious mind was serving up a variety of truths for his inspection.

These thoughts began to organize themselves as causes and effects, or perhaps more aptly put - a naturally-occurring field of related truths.

_Ecklie hated Sara. Sara hated the treatment she received at his hands._

_Ecklie hated Grissom. Grissom hated Ecklie's blatant misuse of his power, and set out to thwart his authority skillfully…and often._

_Ecklie had the job. Grissom had the Sheriff's ear._

_Ecklie had often tried to get rid of Sara. Grissom had used his clout to override each of these decisions._

_Ecklie had the job everyone thought Grissom should have. And Grissom had the …._

Mentally, the brakes had been depressed so quickly, they were smoking.

_Ecklie had the job…and Grissom had the …_girl

Brass started to pace the front walk. His blood pressure was rising as it did when they were on a hot scene and the perp was in his sights.

_A love-hate relationship._

_Ecklie, in his perverted way, loved Sara. Or at least, in his warped sense of competition, wanted to be sure Grissom could _not_ claim her as _his_ prize._

_Ecklie was using Sara…to get back at Grissom???_

Brass stood to collect himself. He was on to something, he was sure.

Images from the past focusing on his abusive manner around her, clipped comments from a usually unflappable Sara, annoyed looks from Grissom towards Ecklie when Sara was present, the recent scene in Ecklie's office…

Brass flipped open his phone, but reached Grissom's voicemail on the first ring.

_Stay with her, buddy…don't let her out of your sight…_

He left a cryptic message before slamming his cell closed,

"Gil…watch out for Ecklie…"

---------------------------------------------------------

Catherine almost ran over Nick as they collided at the main intersection outside of Ecklie's office.

"Where the hell IS everybody? What is going on? Talk, Catherine. I'm out of patience here!", Nick was practically yelling.

His voice had caused several heads to peek out of nearby worklab doorways, wondering if there was a need to hit the silent alarm button with which each room was equipped.

"YOU are out of patience! How would you like being called out _off the record_ to sit for three hours, have an officer take off with _your_ kit, and find yourself _dismissed_!" Catherine retorted red-faced.

Nick glanced around and said much more quietly, "Cath…something is going on here. I was just on my way to see Ecklie –"

Catherine shot a glance at his doorway. "Great minds running along the same lines, Nicky," she laughed, calming a bit at having a kindred spirit around.

They both stood a second, reviewing their decision before glancing at each other. Nick spoke first, with a sigh.

"Well, if you are here, the others should be arriving soon. I don't know if I am really up for a dish of Ecklie's crap right now."

Catherine closed her eyes before reopening them with a genuine smile, "THAT would make two of us, Nicky. C'mon, I'll buy you a cup of coffee. If I can't raise Grissom, I'll try Brass."

As they walked down the corridor towards the breakroom, inside the office Sofia had just about finished putting herself together. Having heard Nick's outburst, she made quick work out of redressing behind, while Ecklie had hastily resumed his position on, his large, overstuffed swivel chair.

He half expected the door to swing open, but when it failed to do so after a full minute of silence from the hallway, Ecklie began to relax.

He strode over and locked the door, shutting off the overhead lights.

Now, only the area behind his desk was illuminated from the glare of the gooseneck lamp.

Sofia had given him the release his body sought after again failing to make Sara his own.

Sara. His fixation with her body was totally unleashed, his need for gratification using her body now built into an overwhelming obsession.

His thoughts were not fully in the present as he sat down again, still fixating on the remembered feel of Sara's silky skin as she had lain naked before him on the townhouse floor. He found himself still painfully reacting to not being able to enjoy his _dessert_…

He swung his chair around, flexing his long legs on either side of her form, to find Sofia finishing with the few buttons on her low-cut blouse, still crouching down on her knees before him.

Leaning forward, he was grabbing for the sides of her face pulling them suggestively forward. "What's your hurry, Sofia?" as he reached to undo her top button.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

As Andrew reported for the graveyard shift, he expected he was late and everyone else was out on assignment.

He checked the call board, slightly confused at the lack of information.

A self-starter, Andrew did not require supervision to keep him busy.

For all his quirks, he was a hard worker. When he had a goal, he put himself totally into his work.

Without a goal, he plunged himself into more – pleasurable – pursuits.

Leaving the breakroom, he headed towards his desk with his attaché case in hand.

Reaching his destination, Andrew left his door ajar and moved to sit down in his high back desk chair, lighting the room solely with his desktop gooseneck lamp.

He aimed it over the center of his desk blotter.

Having settled in, he opened the combination lock and clicked open the case.

He did not remove the file, rather opened it in the almost empty briefcase.

There was Sara's file, illumined under the glare of the spot light.

He sat back and gave himself some elbow room to fully enjoy the review of the photos, as he had done _several _times since he initially removed it from Grissom's desk.

_Princess, you always make me _very_ hot._

However, before he could get past the first shot of her long legs, there was a knock at the slightly opened door. Before he could react, Catherine and Nick swung into the room.

"Andrew!…what you _got_ there?"


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thanks for the wonderful comments from the loyal reviewers for this story. To all those who continue to support this story, you are the reason I keep writing. The varied events in this story seem to be converging, and it is possible there are only a few chapters left. As with the first story there is the age old question: does this sequel finish the tale? Or should this become a well-planned trilogy with Andrew as the focus? The first tale begged for a sequel, but I am not sure this one would require it. Sometimes, it is better just to end on a high note rather than drag it out. We learned those lessons from the SESSIONS and CASTLES IN THE AIR. Opinions are welcomed, whether as reviews or private posts. This chapter picks up the pace of this story…hope it doesn't disappoint! Next update whenever, but as soon as possible. You remain great! –Kathy

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He refused to release her hand from his possessive grip.

The doctors were pleased with her responsiveness.

Grissom was noticeably annoyed that she was in pain, and they were smiling.

Sara tried weakly to describe her headache.

The doctors suggested they could give her something to make her sleep.

Sara and Gil, in unison, almost shouted in the negative.

To appease their questioning looks, Grissom leaned in towards Sara as he spoke, "Sara has trouble coming around after taking a sedative. They can set off some pretty bad nightmares. She prefers a more…homeopathic approach to medication."

The doctors discussed a combination of gentler drugs that they agreed could be administered through the IV.

"We can give you a few hours, see how your pain reacts to this treatment. But, Sara," the aged physician spoke solemnly, "if I don't see much improvement, I may decide to do another CAT scan to rule out hemorrhaging. NO discussion."

He turned away from Sara, making Gil the full focus of his next statement.

"Dr. Grissom, there is a matter I need to discuss with you…"

Grissom was still gazing worriedly over her form lying motionless, but in obvious discomfort, under the thin hospital bedding. His concern for her immediate well-being took precedence over anything the doctors required at this time.

"Sara will need additional blankets…two, actually…she gets quite cold when she sleeps," he interrupted firmly.

Inwardly, both doctors smiled at his caring concern.

He definitely had a positive effect on their patient.

Sara seemed most responsive to his gentle manner.

And it did not escape them that he had not released her hand since they had entered the room to begin their exam.

"You may help yourself," the younger doctor spoke as he gestured towards the patient storage locker in the corner of the room.

The older doctor inwardly was happy for the reprieve. His next conversation with Grissom was bound to be…upsetting.

Grissom gave Sara's hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it to collect the items for her needed warmth.

Upon opening the door, he reached up and grabbed two blankets from the top shelf. His gaze happened to fall towards the empty area at the bottom of the locker.

"Doctor," he spun around, always the investigator, "where are Sara's belongings?"

The two men stared at each other in a manner that sent shivers through his spine. Grissom was now on high alert.

"Doctor?...her clothes?...shoes?" he demanded a bit more forcefully.

Again, their furtive glances made him sick to his stomach.

The older man approached him, taking his elbow gruffly and leading him to the corner window.

"Sara…when she was brought in…her attacker left her..." the doctor sighed. "Sara was brought in without _any_ personal belongings…"

Grissom's eyes grew wide, his head whipping around to gaze at Sara's bruised body.

He wasn't sure he could understand fully what had happened to her.

He wasn't sure he really wanted to know the details.

He wasn't privy to the scene at the townhouse, so now he was having trouble ridding himself of the images of all the most horrendous crime scenes he had ever encountered.

_He wasn't there to protect her._

The doctor's voice returned him to the moment.

"Dr. Grissom, the Sheriff had one of your CSI's here to …process…Sara, but her injuries required immediate surgery, so the evidence was never collected."

Grissom was still looking at Sara, his mind reeling.

"Dr. Grissom –" a firm grip on his shoulder brought him back into the conversation, "the CSI was dismissed, but her kit was retained..."

The doctor's hesitation gave Grissom time to absorb the full implication of his unspoken request. Resignation settling into his posture, he replied quietly,

"I'll do it."

--------------------------------------------------------

Ecklie was storming about his office, flinging paperwork and tossing Styrofoam cups angrily.

He was becoming unglued.

_Where was Sara?_

His inquiries through the lab network yielding no new information.

By now, he expected that she would have been treated and released, and Grissom would have been seen storming through the lab.

Ecklie would have liked that.

Seeing the great Gil Grissom with an apparently unsolved attack on his beloved Sara to investigate.

And Sara would have given him _nothing_.

Still, the joy in possessing the upperhand was – empty.

No one seemed to have any idea that something _was_ wrong with Sara Sidle.

The call board had been filled in, mysteriously, simply stating Brown, Sidle, and Grissom "on assignment".

_Who had assigned them?_

As Lab Director, that was _his_ job.

There was only one person in this building who had the authority to assign CSI's besides him.

The fire in Ecklie's belly began to flare.

He steamed towards the Sheriff's office.

----------------------------------------------

Andrew had been able to cover up his clandestine "activities", by giving Catherine and Nick a deer-in-the-headlights look and feigning having been startled awake.

As Nick had flipped on the lights, Andrew had just managed to expertly "reconfigure his figure" with one hand while keeping Catherine engaged in an unbroken stare.

As he continued to speak and maintain eye contact, his free hand was slowly closing the attaché case before him.

He silently congratulated himself on getting out of a close call.

He never figured on CSI Willows.

Catherine had seen enough sleaze bags in her career to know one when she saw one.

Her first impressions of Andrew Canalla sent her radar into action.

She locked her impressions away, needing time to compile a more detailed list of questions she needed answers to about this new team member.

When he was alone again, Andrew realized he needed to find a secure site to hide his prized file.

_Too close for comfort. I need to find a good hiding place._

And that is how Andrew found himself heading towards the Document Files room.

-----------------------------------------------

Ecklie stood alone in the middle of the Sheriff's office.

With the entire Sheriff's detail involved heavily with the unfolding events at the hospital, he had gained easy access to the corridor and walked right into the office, ready for a confrontation.

_Important case…and I'm not involved…and Grissom is assigned…_

Incensed by the Sheriff's absence, Ecklie was now moving towards the desk to pen an irate memo insisting on a meeting upon the Sheriff's return.

There is a truth in forensic science. There is no such thing as a perfect crime, because there is no such thing as a perfect cover-up.

With all the care he had taken, the events of the last 24 hours had shaken the Sheriff's confidence that matters were under his control. As the situation was becoming more complex, two seemingly inconsequential actions by the Sheriff had now become glaring errors of judgment.

As Ecklie rounded the corner of the Sheriff's desk to pen his communiqué, he saw it.

The desk lap drawer was slightly ajar because of the tablet edge jutting forth from the opening. Pulling the drawer forward, Ecklie recognized the gold seal of the Sheriff's Office on the high quality paper.

He recalled having received official admittance to a closed-door meeting by presenting a handwritten note from the Sheriff on just such a sheet.

Ecklie smiled. He removed several sheets from the tablet before shutting the drawer properly. Carefully, the sheets were folded and placed in the inner pocket of his suit coat.

Moving around the desk to exit on the other side, he spotted it.

Perhaps not on par with the rest of the graveyard shift, Ecklie _was_ a trained and experienced investigator in his own right.

So a handled, heavy duty paper cup containing the fresh remnants of a coffee with creamer caught his eye.

Particularly the side of the cup, emblazoned with the logo for Desert Palms Hospital.

In a flash, the situation became clear.

Ecklie patted his suit coat pocket and plotted his next move.

_I think I can find good uses for these…_

He would go to the hospital. But he was now sure that Grissom would be with Sara.

His anger resurfaced.

_I could ruin him…one slip of the 'evidence' and it's "goodbye, Grissom"…_

Ecklie's musings usually brought some comfort when he reached this point in his rage towards something Grissom had done to aggravate or humiliate him.

But this time – the musings were not enough.

Perhaps, it _was_ time….

He needed the comfort of reviewing the documents that put Gil Grissom's life again in his hands.

And that is how Ecklie found himself heading towards the Document Files room.

----------------------------------------------

The moment the Sheriff had come into the morgue, Doc Robbins understood there had been a problem. He could count on his one hand the number of times the Sheriff had come through those doors seemingly without reason.

One look told him that reason now concerned Sara.

Several years ago, Doc Robbins had been brought into the undercover operation on a limited basis, similar to Warrick's involvement.

That first night so long ago, it was agreed that only the Sheriff and Sara would know about the trumped up evidence file implicating Grissom in the murder of Holly Gribbs.

That first night, the Sheriff had personally escorted Sara to the good doctor's "office" after their frank discussion in his.

Ostensibly for Doc to check out Sara's minor injuries after her first run-in with Ecklie, the Sheriff's main goal was to retain the coroner as guardian of all pertinent medical and work-related information related to the case.

When they finished their case against Ecklie, they were going to need expert testimony about the ongoing abuse Sara suffered at his hands. The Sheriff felt that would go a long way towards establishing a pattern of abuse as well as a clear cut revenge motive for the blackmail.

The two men now moved towards Doc's private office, where he closed and locked the door.

Within minutes, Doc had been apprised of the current situation. His questions streamed forth in a torrent, causing the Sheriff to hold up both hands to stop the onslaught of worry coming off the medical examiner.

"Grissom has been assigned to her. Brown has been assigned to process the townhouse. I placed all three CSI's on _special assignment_. Their absence will not be a matter of concern."

The doctor bristled. "Warrick? Think that's a wise choice to involve him in this?"

Doc was still unconvinced in Warrick's innocence of the events leading up to the confrontations of either night.

The Sheriff stood and looked him directly in the eye.

"He's on the team."

Robbin's mouth flew open. "Since _when_?" he asked a bit too sternly.

The Sheriff was tired and concerned for where this escalation of abuse was heading. He had little patience for this questioning of his actions.

"Since I have discovered that his involvement in this case predates _yours_," he replied gruffly.

This stunned the good doctor into silence.

_Perhaps I need to rethink this whole Sara-Warrick issue._

Drawing a calming breath, the Sheriff indicated that a CSI was going to process Sara for evidence in the attack. The SAE kit and the evidence files were to be directly processed by Doc Robbins _only_, under a Jane Doe.

This caused the coroner to pause. "Who will you send to collect the evidence if you don't want it processed through normal channels?"

The answer created a heavy silence in the room.

"Grissom."

------------------------------------------------------------

Ecklie surveyed the hallways and the entire Document Files room before moving to the back of the warehouse, organized files stacked to the ceiling in all directions.

He moved surely towards his target, climbing onto the sliding ladder towards the first box in the first row of the first storage cabinet from the exit door.

Conrad Ecklie always considered himself number one.

Dust was being disturbed as he pulled the packet forward. He dusted off the top before reading the file name, "EDDIE LIGI". Ecklie smiled at the reassignment of letters from his cryptic pronouncement "DIE, GIL, DIE".

He was so engrossed in his review of the damning evidence that he did not notice the silent closing of the main entry door, or the fact that Andrew was watching him from the shadows.

--------------------------------------------

It was, perhaps, the hardest thing he ever had to do.

Agreeing to _process_… those words caught in his throat…Sara Sidle, his one and only…was almost his undoing.

Before ending his conversation with the older doctor, Gil reversed himself and adamantly demanded that Sara be given something in her IV that would sedate her immediately.

He did not want her aware of the indignity of the SAE kit collection.

He did not want her aware that he would be the one to gather the evidence.

He did not want ….to do this.

So Sara, unaware of the medication added to her IV, drifted peacefully off to a deep slumber, her body limp and cooperative.

When they were alone, with a stern warning to the officers outside that _no one_ was to be admitted until the evidence was completely collected, he pulled over a chair to the front of her hospital bed.

Gil set his jaw and carefully poised her to begin the exam.

The next fifteen minutes brought Gil on a rollercoaster of emotion.

Every touch conflicted with the current facts, and the memory of their past fantasy.

Every view brought out disgust for the job at hand, and the desire to again seal their bond of love and his protective commitment.

Gil continued to shake his head as if to clear it, wanting his sole focus to be on the evidence and not the beautiful person who had been so defiled.

He sighed as he realized there were no new bruises in the traditional "clock face" positions indicating forced sexual activity.

_No rape._

Gil was feeling better about finishing the kit, when the final visual exam brought his world crashing down around him.

He squinted, closing his eyes against the ramifications of his discovery.

The scarring was old, and although the tearing had healed, all the evidence pointed to long term, abusive violations that occurred at a very young age.

Removing the speculum, he sat back trying to quiet his racing heart. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the small movement of her fingers as she unknowingly began to grasp for the bedding.

She was starting to wake up.

He wanted to finish the processing and get the evidence to the lab before that happened.

Gil stood and walked quickly to her side. He smoothed her hair and soothed her back to sleep with his soft declarations of love.

Once she was stilled, he began to swab the area where the blunt object… _possibly the toe of a shoe?_... had come in contact with the area above her ear.

He swabbed her cheek and the entire side of her neck. _If his body came in touch with these areas, there still might be some DNA evidence…_

Gil gritted his teeth. Her movement had distracted him. There was still one more level of documentation to complete.

Sighing heavily, he returned to his original position. With a large gulp and a deliberate straightening of his shoulders, he pulled back the covers to expose them to the light.

Again, what he found before him almost sent him over the edge.

_There was bruising…no…_scraping_ it seemed…across the stomach area and much farther down…not scraping so much… as... _impressions_ on the skin…impressions of…they looked like…indentations from a zipper… _

Gil snapped a photo, packed up the evidence, and was out the door without a backwards glance.

He needed to get this evidence processed pronto.

His desire to get answers to his suspicions locked him into investigator mode – the time when he would become so focused the world around him would disappear until he was able to get the answers he needed.

Unfortunately, had he turned towards her before leaving, he would have seen that Sara was beginning to stir and while slowly regaining consciousness, she was reaching into empty space – unconsciously seeking his comfort from the pain which was now emerging full force upon her awakening.

---------------------------------------------------

Ecklie had satisfied himself that the key to Grissom's demise was still indeed at his fingertips.

However, as he was returning the case file to the shelf, another plan began to emerge.

He patted his suitcoat pocket and made his way back to his office, being careful to return the roving ladder to its original position.

But…there _is_ a truth in forensic science. There is _no such thing_ as a perfect crime, because there is _no such thing_ as a perfect cover-up.

And…perhaps not on par with the rest of the graveyard shift, Andrew _was_ a trained and experienced investigator in his own right.

Waiting to ensure that he was alone, Andrew examined the floor in the corridor Ecklie had just vacated. The dust marks led him to the exact spot the ladder had stopped before.

He had observed that the case file was on an upper shelf, so he climbed the ladder leaving his briefcase on the floor.

It was relatively easy to find which storage contained had been recently opened, as the dust was not as heavily settled as it was on the surrounding files.

Andrew retreated stealthily down the ladder, carrying the object of his interest.

This time, however, he used his foot to obscure the entire path of the ladder tracks, smoothing the thin glaze of dust to remove his footprints.

Again checking for the presence of prying eyes, Andrew slipped out the door with his briefcase in hand and the file box under his arm, heading for the privacy available by his lockable office door.

-----------------------------------------------

Grissom had been intent on returning to the lab post haste, anxious to uncover any hard evidence linking a name to her attacker.

Behind the wheel of the Denali, his anger was returning.

_She had just been laying there._

_She had no defensive wounds…had she been drugged?_

_He had removed her clothes._

_He had pressed his clothed body harshly against her._

_He had almost…._

His mind was racing at these thoughts. His imagination was running wild.

He needed to see the scene for himself.

Perhaps he would see something…anything…that would create a clearer picture of what had happened.

And that is how Gil Grissom found himself on the way to the townhouse.

He was unaware that Warrick Brown was still processing the scene.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: MUCHAS Gracias to jenstog, whose review of the last chapter inspired the details of the events of this chapter. Many thanks to those who continue to review and those who support this story. I love these characters! Hope I did their story justice…. You remain great! –Kathy

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Red.

His entire field of vision instantly tinted upon seeing _his_ SUV parked in the driveway of the townhouse.

_Their_ townhouse.

He observed Brass on his cell, pacing outside distractedly.

Why did he allow Warrick inside? _Who_ assigned _him_ to this case?

Jealousy is defined as "_resentment against a rival, a person enjoying an advantage."_

"_I promise…"_

The image of Warrick wrapped around Sara protectively, whispering those words, assaulted his thoughts until he almost couldn't breathe.

What_ had he promised her? _

What_ did Sara need that Warrick alone could supply?_

_If she needed something obviously so important…_

Why_ didn't she come to _him

The cancer of his jealousy spread throughout his body, attacking his logical thought processes and releasing levels of adrenaline at such a rate that he found himself unable to consider consequences of his actions.

Grissom was out of the Denali like a shot, almost running to his front door.

That was how Brass spotted him.

"Whoa, partner," he said almost comically, trying to defuse the angry demeanor presented by his longtime friend.

"Out of my way," Gil puffed without slowing.

"No can do, buddy," Brass said, steeling himself a bit more to block access to the front stairway.

"I'm here to secure the scene. No one in or out until this scene is cleared by the Sheriff, _personally_."

Gil was not sure what was more shocking.

The fact that Brass found himself laying flat on his back on the side lawn, knocked off his feet by a single upper cut…or that fact that Gil Grissom, who spent his whole life exuding an air of pacifism, had KO'd his friend without discernibly slowing his pace towards his front door.

The door flew open under his rage and within five paces he had reached the spot where Warrick was kneeling, having just concluded the final stage of evidence collection.

Before he could turn around, Warrick felt himself being dragged forcibly towards the wall near the bay window. His head came in contact with the paneling with such force that the stars in his field of vision contrasted sharply with the early morning sunlight filtering through the window covering.

Although much shorter in stature, Grissom held Warrick fast with a well placed elbow against his neck. Not usually one to spar physically with an opponent, his generally soft-spoken demeanor was forgotten as his need for satisfaction became of paramount importance

This was the scene when Brass scurried into the room.

"I will _hurt _you!" Gil shouted angrily.

"You will _never _touch her again! _EVER_!" he found himself screaming now, small white dots emerging before his troubled eyes.

"I will _end_ you if you ever come _near_ her again! UNDERSTAND??" Gil was starting to run out of breath, his anger choking him.

"Yeah…" Warrick spit out shakily.

"Yeah…I _understand_…" was all he could get out before he felt his own breath return as Brass pulled Grissom from his choke hold and sent him spinning away from the confrontation.

"Gil! _Back off_! Get ahold of yourself! This is _not_ helping Sara."

The mention of her name caught his attention. Somewhere through his labored breathing, Grissom could hear the truth in what his friend was saying.

His ire was not appeased, however. From his vantage point a few feet away, he continued with his verbal barrage.

"Understand _this_, Warrick –" Gil glared as he began, while speaking through clenched teeth..

But the rest of his statement would have to wait.

Warrick claimed his right to the floor.

"I _understand…_I understand that _You. Cheated. On. Sara_!…. that she _caught_ you, redhanded,…that after watching you with that…_tramp_…she was _so_ distraught she wanted to run…_again_…because of YOU…._AGAIN_…" he spouted, with so much malice that Grissom felt he had been slapped –hard.

"Gil," Brass started to speak, hoping to referee before this interaction escalated to the next level.

Too late.

By this time, Grissom had made his move again, this time toppling over Warrick and knocking them both to the ground.

Grissom was pummeling him with his fists. Before Brass could intervene, Warrick had regrouped and was deflecting those punches expertly.

It did not register with Grissom that Warrick was on the defensive only.

Warrick had no intent on injuring his supervisor any further. The man had obviously hurt himself in a way that was far more devastating.

In the split second before Brass pulled off Grissom from his physical attack, Warrick caught a glimpse of Grissom's eyes.

What he found there caused his breath to catch.

Remorse…anxiety…guilt…worry…overwhelming...anguish.

In that second, he realized that Grissom had acted out as a reaction to his helplessness to keep Sara safe.

In that second, he realized that Grissom had been jealous of the personal relationship Warrick had with Sara.

In that second, Warrick realized that Grissom had blamed himself totally for what had happened to Sara.

Brass was now holding a struggling Gil by the arms, admonishing him to calm down or risk being handcuffed until he did.

After gulping a few breaths, Grissom gruffly released himself from Brass' hold.

Brass stood there glaring at the two men, then issued a long, drawn-out sigh and smoothed his fingers over his still-aching jaw.

"What the _hell_ is going on between you two? What _happened_ out at that restaurant, anyway?"

The silence was deafening.

Finally, Brass turned away from the seething Grissom and stood full faced in front of Warrick.

"And the answer is…….." he said cheekily.

Warrick hung his head to clear it. When he returned to speak to Brass, his gaze fell angrily upon Grissom. The two locked their eyes and began a verbal battle for control of the facts leading up to Sara's attack.

"I thought Sara could use some cheering up, so we went to the jazz club."

-----------------------------------"She shouldn't have been out, she was still hurting from the attack."

"_SHE_ wanted to go, and was looking forward to getting out, like _normal people_ do…"

-----------------------------------"She was too fragile, she should have waited for…"

"For _YOU_ man? For you to _decide_ it was time to take her out of her box and play with her for a while? She deserves _better_, man…"

-----------------------------------"You son of a…"

"_QUIET!_" roared Brass in his most official tone.

"I need _facts_. Now, we can either do this here, or downtown. But I _am_ going to get to the bottom of this."

Breathing heavily, both men were silent.

"Now, Warrick, " Brass continued, with a glare over his shoulder at Gil to remind him not to interfere.

"When we got there, they gave us a corner booth, which was fine because Sara was still a bit self-conscious about the bruises…"

------------------------------------"Which is _WHY_ she should _not _have been out of the house, yet."

Brass glared, Warrick sighed, Grissom was unapologetic.

"I noticed Sara's behavior change suddenly. She tried to distract me, but I followed where her gaze had been…"

Warrick unconsciously had moved a menacing step closer to Grissom, who was standing still trying to make sense of this new information.

Brass stepped in front of Warrick, motioning for him to stop and continue his story.

"She saw Grissom…sitting at a table with Sofia….NO….it was more like he was _mauling_ Sofia at the table…"

Once again, Brass found himself pulling an angry Grissom off an angry Warrick, both men dueling with insults as well as fists.

Once separated, Brass turned on Grissom.

"What the _hell_ is your problem? _Sofia_?" He shook his head angrily.

"I _told you before_ you were playing with fire with that one. I tend to agree with Warrick on this one. You don't really seem to know _what _you want…"

Grissom was shouting at Warrick now.

"You know _exactly_ what was going on there, Warrick! Perhaps we should call Nick over here to _remind you_ that I needed to get Sofia to open up to me, to find out what was happening at the lab."

Warrick was unconvinced.

"There was lots more going on there than that, Grissom. I saw it. So did Sara."

Again, the mention of her name was bringing Gil to the brink of despair.

_Had she really thought…?_

Warrick took his silence as permission to continue.

"Sara just wanted to leave. I pleaded with her to calm down and talk to me. _At the time_, I was sure there was a logical explanation."

He glared again at Grissom.

"She was distraught, and I was ….worried about her. She stood so quickly I could only grab her by the arm to prevent her from taking off.

We struggled and I managed to get her back into the booth."

At this moment, a bittersweet smile crossed Warrick's face as he looked at Brass.

"She's quite a little dynamo when she's angry."

This statement seemed to bring a much needed breath of calm to the heaviness of the air in the room.

"Next thing I know, Romeo over there is pulling me out of the bench and swearing at me."

There was a short pause before Warrick continued, his voice taking on a much softer tone.

"Then…Sara just stood and ran out."

At this, he raised his sorrow filled eyes to stare directly at Grissom.

All three men could fill in the blanks from this point on.

Grissom found himself unable to move. He was sure the other two men could hear his heart breaking.

"It wasn't like that…Sofia…she gave me all the information I needed to confirm our suspicions…I was going to call Nick and Greg…we were going to expose the whole mess…then Sara would…"

He choked on the reality that had been unfolded by Warrick's story.

_He_ was the reason it had all happened to her.

_He_ had caused her to doubt the truth of his love, how it must have hurt her to see him there!

_He_ hadn't offered her the explanation about Sofia that she needed to be _secure_ in his love.

He had told her to hold on to his love…but what truth had he given her to hold on _to_?

Grissom had told her once he would give his life for _her._

Instead, she once again had almost lost hers because of _him_.

He couldn't breathe. He needed to see her. He needed to tell her.

He needed to hold her.

Without a backwards glance, Grissom stalked towards the door.

That was how he now found himself standing inside his foyer.

The scene before him caused him to stop short.

He was sure this sight would haunt his memory for years to come.

In their most private moments, Gil secretly adored when Sara called him _Bugman._

Today he wished he was anything but.

His years of experience gave him not just the skill in working with the smallest inhabitants of this planet, they also had given him a life focus for many years where he had protectively withheld his focus from the _homo sapiens_ around him.

His bugs had never hurt or abandoned him.

On some level, he had created a unique bond, or relationship, with them.

Now, for the first time since he had arrived, Gil Grissom saw the carnage displayed before him.

He viewed the destruction before him, and was filled with the same type of horror that would overcome an average person at the scene of a mass murder.

The deliberate smashing and destruction of these wafer-thin bodies screamed of the vengeance and the cruelty possessed by the truly insane.

And _this_ insanity had then been directed at his Sara.

Bombarded with the reality, Gil found it was just too much information to process. He found his knees giving way slightly, and a deep breath difficult to come by.

Warrick had spun around startled by the beginning of Gil's enraged exit from the townhouse.

He observed Grissom stopping in his tracks, surveying the room with widening eyes.

Before Gil had arrived, Warrick had almost finished packing up the meager bits of evidence left at this scene. His final task was to be the opening of a clear container from his kit.

He planned on beginning a loving retrieval of these fallen heroes from their resting places on the floor.

Warrick had hoped that Grissom might be able to do _something_ with their soft bodies…

Warrick wasn't really sure what he expected Grissom _could_ really do…

Warrick just knew he had to _try_ …to make it _better,_ somehow,…_easier_ for Sara when she found out…

His past intentions were all but forgotten at the sight of his shocked supervisor now, unable to stand on his own two feet.

"Griss –" Warrick spoke loudly, racing to support his mentor and lead him to a chair.

"Sit down, man…put your head between your knees…" he spoke, taking charge of the situation.

Emotionally spent, Gil did not protest.

"You okay, buddy?" Brass rushed over, concerned.

Without looking up, Grissom just shook his head.

Warrick nodded in assent.

"It sucks, man," he said as he moved away from Grissom, returning to his kit, preparing to complete his planned, unpleasant task.

Brass watched Warrick set to work silently, understanding the heartbreak looming ahead for Sara when she found out her winged beauties were gone. _Whenever she looked at them, her smile_…

Sara's words from their private conversation at a crime scene so long ago now replayed in his mind:

"There is no such thing as happily ever after. _Every_ love in a person's life eventually leaves. It is just a _fact_."

At the time, he had chastised her for trying to ruin his belief in fairy tales, joking:

"You know, I still believe in Santa Claus."

Now he stood here, fully realizing for the first time that in her young life perhaps she _did _always wind up losing those she loved.

This thought created a pain so deep in his fatherly heart that he needed to turn away to collect himself.

That is how the scene spread out as the daylight again filtered through the shades.

One man's heart breaking upon the sight of these beloved fallen butterflies.

One man's heart breaking upon the thoughts of Sara's reaction to their deaths.

One man's heart breaking upon thoughts of his responsibility for what horrors his Sara had endured here.

It was a while before Gil spoke. His voice was shaky as it resonated through the thick silence of the room.

"I wasn't here to protect her."

This admission carried with it all the pain of the years he had _pushed_ her away, combined with his now feeble attempts at _claiming _her possessively as his own, thereby pushing _others _away.

He raised his eyes towards Warrick.

"And I stopped you from being with her to protect her."

The scene at the restaurant replayed on his mental screen, now adding bits of clarity as rational thought was prevailing.

"She was alone…because of _me._"

Brass had turned towards him now, unable to find words of comfort as Gil's anguish bared itself.

"Sara suffered _all this_ …because of –"

Gil hung his head again, allowing them to complete the indictment for themselves.

Brass was surprised when Warrick spoke.

"Don't do this, Griss. You and I, yeah we have our part in her leaving like that…but this…this was _planned_….this was planned and _waiting_ to happen…He -" Warrick broke off, unwilling to enter the waters the Sheriff had warned him not to stir up.

The abrupt nature of his pause caused Gil's neck to snap upwards, pinning Warrick with his gaze.

"You know who did this," Grissom challenged him fiercely.

Warrick just stared back. He refused to blink. His entire body was on high alert.

He _wanted_ to say it.

He wanted to say the name.

He wanted to say the name of the lunatic who had made Sara's life a living hell all these years.

But he had _promised_ her.

And he was sworn by the Sheriff not to reveal it, or risk holding Sara up to more harm.

But he _wanted_ to say it.

He wanted Grissom to get so insane that he would hunt him down and kill Ecklie on the spot.

Sara deserved justice.

Sara deserved to have a life free from fear.

Sara deserved…to have him _keep_ his promise.

He could see her eyes pleading with him now, just as they had pleaded with him then.

She wanted to protect Grissom.

_Did Grissom really understand the depth of her unspoken love for him?_

She was laying down her life for him…again….

Warrick had respected her decision and had supported her through the hell Ecklie created all these years.

Warrick would _not_ betray that promise now.

So he continued to stand there saying nothing.

Which is what made it all the more dramatic when Brass' voice bellowed angrily,

"Conrad Ecklie."

-------------------------------------------------------------

At that moment, the object of their discussion was beginning an expert forgery on official stationery:

"I am sending Conrad Ecklie to interview Sara Sidle…."


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: As a new author, I was not aware that I should have explained at the beginning of this chapter that a rape does occur in this chapter. If you are not into reading these types of scenes, please wait until the next chapter to continue reading.

I believe the rating of T is correct for this story as I do not feel the details are that graphic, but I do apologize to any reader who felt upset by reading before this disclaimer was issued.

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A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting, this has been a "sick family" week. This chapter was slated to be longer, but I decided to at least write this section and post it tonight, as the upcoming action chapters need to be related from several points of view. I am hoping to post a longer chapter by Friday, but for now reviews are always welcomed, opinions are always taken under advisement, and patience in waiting for updates is always appreciated. You remain great! Your reviews are amazing, as are you! –Kathy

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By the time Conrad Ecklie arrived at the hospital, his psychopathic obsession with causing Grissom pain had reached crisis levels.

Using his influential credentials on the hospital volunteer manning the Information Desk, Ecklie was given all of the "off the record" information, including room location.

Armed with several syringe doses of powerful sedatives which he had pilfered secretly from the lab's well stocked infirmary, Ecklie rode the elevator to Sara's floor impatiently.

At the first sight of him coming off the elevator, the officer guarding the hallway went into high alert.

The Sheriff's plan was to keep Ecklie away from Sara. Should he arrive, the officer was to use his judgment about admitting him, call for reinforcements, and enter the room to ensure Sara's safety.

Sometimes, the best laid plans go awry.

Upon showing the officer his "official summons", the young man stepped aside and let Ecklie pass. Had he waited until Ecklie entered the room, the plan would have gone off without a hitch.

Unfortunately, he kept his back to Ecklie who had paused suspiciously at the door.

_This is too easy. Surely, Grissom would have made it more difficult for _anyone_ to enter this room, to be near his _prize

His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the officer pull out his cell and attempt to speed dial.

Ecklie did not have to guess who he was calling.

Before the officer could press the speed dial to call for backup, he felt a searing pain in his shoulder area. Then the scene disappeared from his sight.

Glancing quickly around the deserted hallway, Ecklie pulled the officer deftly towards the closet at the end of the hallway. Upon opening the door, he smiled.

The room was medical storage equipment. IV poles, portable EKG machines – and several wheelchairs.

Ecklie grinned wickedly before unceremoniously dumping the officer's body in an empty corner of the small room.

Pushing the wheelchair out into the hallway, he found himself pulling the door shut quietly while flipping his phone open, hitting speed dial as he neared Sara's room.

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Grissom was now red-faced, and in Brass' face.

"What the hell are you talking about? You _know_ it was Ecklie who did this? You didn't _tell _me? You didn't do _ANYTHING_ about it? That bastard is _still_ walking around because _YOU_ did nothing to stop him?"

Brass was unable to calm him.

Grissom was already heading out the door, when Warrick had reached him and spun him around angrily.

"Don't go there, Griss. We are _not_ the enemy here. In case you forget, she means a hell of a lot to _us,_ too."

Brass had reached them by this time.

"Gil, we need to get to the Sheriff. The hell with securing this scene. Warrick is done processing here. I suggest we go back to headquarters and powwow about our next move."

Without a word, Grissom turned and led them out of the townhouse and towards their vehicles.

Before Gil could start his car, Brass had already backed out of the driveway – and had activated his flashers and sirens.

--------------------------------------------------------

Sara was in the throws of a horrific nightmare.

As often happened after she was sedated, reality and memory clashed.

She could see her young self crouching in a corner. The dark shadow looming over her meant her nighttime horrors were about to begin, again.

She could smell the scotch on his breath, as the odor assaulted her, making it difficult to breathe.

She could feel his hands on her, lifting her slightly, roughly removing the thin layer of nightgown.

She could hear the sound of his heavy breathing and the disgusting warmth of his exhale moisturizing the crook of her neck.

She could feel the pressure of him depressing her into the bed, spreading her legs uncomfortably.

However, the worst moment came when she felt him enter her roughly.

Her senses were screaming, but she could not get her own voice to join in.

Try as she might, she could not get herself to open her eyes and end her nightmare.

In this instance, opening her eyes would have revealed that her nightmare was just _beginning_.

Having propped a chair to lock the door, Ecklie had made quick work of finishing what he had started back at the townhouse.

He had almost climaxed when he heard her low moans, desperately calling for Grissom to help her.

Ecklie reacted by pounding into her body savagely, pulling her hair to bring her mouth upwards to receive a crushing, punishing kiss. He wanted to remove Grissom's name from her mouth…_and_ from her thoughts.

In his twisted mind, he now wanted Sara to desire _him_.

In his present state, he took her lack of defensive posture as acquiescence.

Feeling triumphant in beating out Grissom for her attentions, Ecklie's climax burst inside her.

When he had finished, he mechanically rolled off her and redressed himself.

Sara lay there, almost catatonic from the living hell she had just endured.

She felt lost in this hellish semi-conscious state. She couldn't get to their Better Place. She couldn't fully awaken.

She needed to see Gil.

She needed to beg him to stop this nightmare.

She needed for him to take away this stinging sensation from her upper shoulder.

She needed Gil…

Sara found herself once again in a medically induced slumber from Ecklie's injection.

He stood over her, wiping his mouth and running a satisfied hand through his hair.

_As sweet as I thought you'd be, my dear. Perhaps we can hook up again…soon._

With that, Ecklie carelessly removed the IV lines from her hand and roughly redressed her in the blue hospital gown. Whatever part was being dressed was first manhandled a bit, as he was now recklessly high and feeling invincible.

_No one can stop me now. Sara is mine. Grissom is going down on the trumped up charges._

A perverted chuckle left his lips and then he started to concentrate on _her_ lips.

_Hmm…perhaps Sara will be "going down" too…_

The thoughts of Grissom reminded him that the evidence was at the lab.

With stage one of his master plan complete, he was anxious to return them to the lab to execute stage two.

This is how the unconscious Sara found herself covered in a blanket with hospital issued garb and being placed in the waiting wheelchair.

Checking for signs of life from the hallway, Ecklie wheeled Sara to the end of the corridor.

After a moment, the doors opened to reveal an empty elevator.

Once he had Sara inside, Ecklie grinned gleefully as he pressed the _non-stop_ button.

He waited until the doors had closed to inch himself closer to her and massage her bra-less chest with one hand, as he pressed B for the basement with the other.

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The Sheriff had been walking through the CSI lab hallway heading for Ecklie's office.

He was angered to find the office dark and the door closed.

Steaming, he was pounding down the hallway when he first noticed Andrew heading towards his office, holding a large box under his arm.

Immediately, the Sheriff's radar was pinging.

_That evidence box is old school. We haven't used that manufacturer in years. I am not aware of any cold cases being reviewed. Just what is this guy up to?_

While Andrew disappeared behind his closed door, the Sheriff was finding and summoning one of his lab techs.

Meanwhile, Andrew had placed the box containing Ecklie's damning evidence on his desk chair.

Taking his briefcase and laying it on the desk blotter, Andrew opened the near-empty attaché to reveal the object of his lust.

Carefully, he turned and removed the lid from the storage box. He placed Sara's "missing" file on the inside wall of the evidence container.

_Should be a safe enough place for now…I can always retrieve it when their interest in it dies down…_

_But I am more interested in what my dear friend Conrad needs to keep _so_ secretly…_

With that thought, he removed the closed file from the storage box and placed his attaché case under the desk.

He opened the file and removed the first set of paper clipped copies, closing the file on the desk.

The communiqué seemed to implicate Grissom having asked Sara to come to Vegas to continue their long-term arrangement, citing Sara's "need to advance professionally…in return for sexual favors".

_Well, well, well, Princess...I can see that you and I will enjoy a VERY satisfying "working" relationship…_

His face still reflecting his glee in finding out such a wonderfully erotic fact about the object of his desire, Andrew took that paperwork and decided to keep it for now, to better acquaint himself with the details.

He pulled out the writing extension on the right edge of his desk, and grabbing some tape, secured it to the underside.

Carefully replacing the wooden ledge to the safety of its niche, Andrew turned his attention again to the closed file on his desk blotter.

He was just beginning to open the file containing the fabricated evidence indicting Grissom as a murderer, when the Sheriff flung open his door and stormed in.

"Just what is all this about, Andrew?"


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: This chapter is a shorter one, as the last, but I wanted to update tonight, to keep the action moving. Hope it pleases. Your supportive reviews keep me motivated. Hoping to post again over the weekend. You remain great! -Kathy

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Andrew was an expert in thinking on his feet.

He advised the Sheriff that he had seen Ecklie sneaking into the storage area, had followed him unseen, and had taken this box to investigate what was being hidden within.

The Sheriff was also an expert in discerning the big picture and the untold story.

However, the fact was not lost on him that this might be the evidence they had been searching for all these years. The recovery of the evidence would go a long way in securing Sara's peace of mind, as well as helping to indict Ecklie.

So for now, the Sheriff demanded that Andrew turn over the container in question.

He planned to investigate Andrew's role in this drama at a later date.

Having the container safe in his possession, the Sheriff continued to grill Andrew over the contents of the folder on his desk. Satisfied that it had not been opened and the CSI had not seen the evidence indicting Grissom for the murder, the Sheriff caustically ordered Andrew to keep this matter private between them.

The Sheriff left hurriedly towards his office.

Andrew fell back into his chair and let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

---------------------------------------------

Grissom led the parade towards the Sheriff's office.

Brass and Warrick suggested they wait in the office for the Sheriff to return, prompting Brass to try unsuccessfully to reach the Sheriff by cell phone.

A moment later, a surprised Sheriff flung open the door to his office to the clamor of voices vying for the first chance to speak.

Having chosen Brass to begin, the Sheriff was stunned by the detective's conclusion that Ecklie was involved in Sara's attack.

_The circle is widening…I hope I can keep a lid on things for just a few more hours until I have an opportunity to check over the evidence in this box…_

The knock on the Sheriff's door caused all four heads to turn.

Sofia appeared in the doorway, answering the Sheriff's barked command to enter.

Before she could speak, however, she was assaulted by comments from Warrick and Brass and by the Sheriff informing her there was a private meeting going on to which she was not a party.

Her gaze, however, fell on Grissom.

_Surely_, she thought_, surely Grissom will defend me…he has shown me how he cares for me…our dinner was so lovely, even if that little …_

Her musings stopped as she looked into his eyes.

The ice blue orbs were icier than she remembered.

Sofia felt a chill go through her spine.

She regrouped, however, as she felt that the Sheriff needed to know the information she had to impart.

Taking a breath and squaring her shoulders, Sofia pulled her gaze from Grissom, donned her best smile and began confidently, "Sheriff, I think…"

At this point, the Sheriff pressed the intercom button and a second later two armed officers appeared at the door.

Never looking at Sofia, he said hastily, "CSI Curtis was just leaving."

Sofia just stared for a moment before she felt the hand on her upper arm attempt to twist her around to move through the door.

Brass and Warrick looked like the cat that ate the canary.

Even the Sheriff felt a twinge of satisfaction at keeping Sofia out of his hair until he sorted things out.

Only Grissom had not looked her way.

His gaze was now on the old evidence box, his CSI training causing him to wonder about the contents – and their importance to Sara's situation.

Once she had been escorted to the end of the hallway and had turned the corner, Sofia found herself alone in the corridor.

_So I am off "the team", am I? Well, Mr. Sheriff, I guess you don't need any input from a "has been" like me…_

With that, Sofia whipped out her cell phone and responded to Ecklie's earlier call - and his somewhat unusual request.

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Grissom's current preoccupation with the storage container was not lost on him.

The Sheriff would have preferred to open the box alone, but time was of the essence.

He asked those present to continue filling him in on their suspicions about Ecklie, while he took off the lid from the box and seated himself – essentially blocking the file from their view.

When he opened the large manila folder, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

A cursory examination of the "evidence" confirmed that this was indeed the file that Sara had searched for these many years.

Immediately, however, the Sheriff realized that he had not recently inquired about Sara's condition.

More importantly, he _suddenly_ realized that Grissom was seated solemnly before him.

_If Grissom is here, _who_ was with Sara?_

The Sheriff was repacking the storage container as he was speed dialing the officer left on sentry duty in front of Sara's door.

The lack of an immediate answer caused the Sheriff to lock eyes with Grissom.

Gil's stomach turned.

It was as if the unspoken concern had revealed all the details he needed to begin to panic.

"Sara!" Gil gasped and was on his feet and out the door before the others could respond.

As they went to follow Grissom out the door, the Sheriff stopped them.

He was phoning the other officer assigned to hospital duty, who immediately began running towards Sara's room.

The Sheriff held his breath while he heard the officer puffing on the third flight of stairs, unwilling to break phone contact until he could assess the situation.

"Dammit!" the officer breathed as he rushed into through the door to find her hospital bed empty.

The hastily proclaimed exclamation had the Sheriff pointing to Brass even before the officer could report the details from the situation at the hospital.

"Get your units over to Desert Palms. And put out an APB on Conrad Ecklie."

Warrick felt the adrenaline surge throughout his system, screaming for him to do something, but his mind drawing complete blanks.

He looked over at Catherine's kit on the floor near where Grissom had been seated. He decided to take the evidence and process it _now_, making himself useful to Sara in _some_ way.

Brass was already out the door, barking into his cell while charging towards his cruiser.

The Sheriff paged the lab techs from the CSI labs to come immediately to his office.

He planned to hand over the storage container which he was now sealing with crime scene tape with orders to let no one touch or open it until he returned.

Their next job would be to find Sofia and keep her under their surveillance until the Sheriff returned. The Sheriff could not define his overwhelming preoccupation with Sofia's involvement in this disappearance.

Meanwhile, though everyone else's attention was focused on Desert Palms hospital, Sofia was standing in the shadows at the morgue's rear garage entrance, awaiting Ecklie and his passenger.

-----------------------------------------------

Grissom narrowly avoided a major collision in the first intersection he barreled through. He had already sideswiped a car in the lab parking lot in his haste to get to Sara.

He couldn't fully comprehend what was happening.

All the time he was rushing, his heart was racing and his brain was sending out messages that he hoped Sara would receive – wherever she was.

_Honey…I'm so sorry, I never should have left you._

_I am _always_ screwing up, how can you keep forgiving me?_

_My pushing you away initially caused you to get a DUI._

_My insensitive first dinner with Sofia caused your home accident._

_My jealousy caused our first fight._

_My ego prevented me from making it up to you._

_My jealousy again caused you to flee._

_This is all my fault…all my fault…if anything happens to you…it is…All. My. Fault._

As he turned the corner with Desert Palms in sight, Gil wished out loud that they could just get to their Better Place.

He promised himself that if Sara was indeed missing, he would race to the townhouse and recline in their special haven until he was asleep and could see her.

_She must be so frightened._

Grissom knew that Sara Sidle was one of the strongest persons he had ever known.

But he also knew everyone has their limit. She had suffered so much in her lifetime, and he was committed to making her happy, with him.

Gil wanted to pledge on his life that no further harm would ever come to her.

_If she...no…WHEN she is found, I am going to grab her and run as far away from Vegas as we can get._

_We will not stop until we find our perfect place, and I will marry her, and we _will_ live happily ever after…can you hear me, Sara?_

_Please, Sara…please hear me…stay safe…I'm coming, honey…don't be afraid…please…I love you so…please, Sara…don't be afraid…I'm coming._

Grissom was almost unglued by the time he parked his Denali haphazardly and was seen racing through the lobby towards the stairs.

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Somewhere in the haze of her drugged state, Sara could visualize him.

_How handsome he is…that smile…a special one for me…wonder if he knows how sexy those graying curls are?_

She could see him standing on a far off point.

It was as if she were watching a 3-D movie without the special glasses usually provided by the theatre.

He was turning towards her.

He was saying something, almost frantically yelling to her.

Sara tried to wave back, to assure him she was alright and really didn't feel much of anything, but she couldn't make her limbs or her voice work.

All she could do was smile for him, hoping he would know that she was alright, that she missed him…not to worry about her.

Somewhere from deep inside her, she could feel more than hear his message to her:

_I love you so…please, Sara…don't be afraid…I'm coming._

He was coming? Coming where?

Where _was_ she?

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At this moment, Sofia was opening the garage door to admit Ecklie and his passenger to the infrequently used garage area located in the rear of the CSI lab building.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: All I can say is that my heart was racing at the end of this chapter. I plan to update soon, but this is a busy weekend, so your patience, as well as your kind and helpful reviews, is appreciated. You remain great…this current story seems to be winding down…but there are still many twists and turns ahead, so hang on! Hope it pleases! –Kathy

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He was finding it a bit difficult to breathe.

Frantically, Grissom had raced through the hospital lobby and up the stairs until he stood anxiously in front of the room where he had left her.

With a few timid steps he now stood in the open doorway, looking dejectedly over towards the bed where she had been resting when he left her.

_Why did I leave you? What was I thinking? This is all my fault…_

Shoulders slumped, he stared at the IV lines that had dripped after they had been pulled out of her tender skin, like tears that were pooling onto the floor until the staff had closed them.

The bedding lay in disarray, causing a horrifying image to overcome his thoughts.

_Sara…I need to see you…please, honey…please…be alright…I'm so sorry…forgive me…this is all my fault…_

He felt his pulse rising, and as he touched the pillow where her head had laid, he became so overcome with emotions – anger, despair, and unspeakable guilt - that those familiar white dots again appeared before his eyes, for the second time this morning.

Feeling as if he couldn't catch a breath, Grissom attempted to flee the upsetting environment and find his love, all the while chastising himself:

_It is all my fault…MY fault…I'm so sorry, honey…you will never be able to forgive me for this…_

If it had not been for the staff physician arriving at that moment, Gil's buckling knees would have contributed to his collapse onto the cold tile of the hospital corridor.

"Dr. Grissom…can you hear me? Are you alright? Dr. Grissom?" the older doctor was inquiring at a loud volume. Grissom was only slightly responsive.

The missing officer had not been located, but the officer sent by the Sheriff to investigate was within earshot of the older doctor's plea for assistance.

They moved an almost immobile Grissom to a nearby patient room which had been vacated when this wing had been sequestered for the Sheriff's "special patient".

The older doctor, taking Gil's blood pressure, winced and pressed his pager button.

He closed the blinds to create a dimly lit atmosphere, kicking the door closed to block out the noise of the hallway.

He then rolled Grissom onto his left side, before answering the ringing tabletop phone.

Barking orders for medication, he turned to the officer who had remained at Grissom's side after laying him on top of the covers.

Seeing his concern, the older doctor assured him that, considering his involvement with the patient, the pressure of the situation had simply been too much for Grissom.

A cursory examination would suggest it was a panic attack brought on by the physical exertion and emotional upheaval of the current events. Rest, quiet, and some medication would allow him to "reset his clock".

The doctor felt that, for now, he would keep his other concerns about this patient to himself.

"Officer, you may continue your duties. I will stay with Dr. Grissom for a while and monitor his improvement. I am sure he will be fine."

And Grissom _would _be fine.

Because the medication the older doctor administered had led him away from the unraveling horrors of the hospital, depositing him in an area where the sounds of a nearby beach were beckoning him.

-----------------------------------------------------

The garage doors closed and Sofia stepped over towards the opening driver's door of Eckie's vehicle.

Sara lay unconscious, unceremoniously dumped onto his backseat.

Sofia sidled up to Conrad provocatively, enjoying the fact that the entire LVPD was screaming around Vegas looking for the "prize" Ecklie had hidden in his backseat.

Ecklie, however, halted her intimate movements, himself obsessed with the person he was now sure had abandoned Grissom in preference for _him_.

Sara had become his only focus.

And for the second time this afternoon, Sofia had found her presence barely tolerated. Pushed away because of _her_. This did not sit well with the blonde investigator.

Did not sit well _at all_.

So this well-lit garage found itself with an unconscious victim and two persons obsessed with their darkest, albeit totally different, desires of what they'd like to do to Sara Sidle.

Ecklie's psychosis almost complete, he would do anything – _anything_ – to ensure the object of his desire remained within his control, a means to satisfy his basest desires of lust – and revenge.

Sofia's paranoia where Sara was concerned had heightened to a level where she would do anything – _anything_ – to rid her of this person she now perceived as the one stumbling block to getting everything that was _due_ her – including Grissom.

So there they stood, each glaring through the opened back door of Ecklie's vehicle – totally unaware that someone was watching, almost unbelieving at what was presented before him, through the security camera hidden in the morgue's garage.

--------------------------------------------------------

Having arrived separately at the hospital, the Sheriff and Brass rode the elevator silently to the floor where the kidnapping had taken place.

Not more than twenty minutes had transpired since the officer had first discovered the disappearance and the duo were now receiving his report.

In his haste to transmit the details as he knew them, the officer did not at first tell them about Grissom.

The Sheriff decided to join the officer in a search of all the rooms on this floor, while Brass started towards Sara's room.

He was surprised not to find Grissom there. Years on the force had given him a radar that sparked alive when faced with an inconsistency like this.

Brass turned on his heels and started down the other end of the hallway, almost bumping into the older doctor as he hurried from Grissom's room.

This doctor was always cautious around new people arriving on a scene where something was amiss. And this whole matter of Sara Sidle screamed of something being amiss.

Glancing over his shoulder towards the closing door, he eyed Brass warily as inquiries were made about Grissom.

"He was here before, but I saw him going down the hallway there," the older doctor told in a half-truth. Indeed, Gil had been going down – and would have fallen totally if he hadn't been caught.

"Doc, I gotta tell you…" Brass sighed impatiently. "I'm getting the feeling you are lying to me."

The older doctor weighed his options. If this man were to rush him, he probably could take him after a struggle. But noticing the bump under his coat, he would have to be sure he didn't have a chance to reach for his gun….

A voice brought him out of his musings.

The Sheriff had joined them, and had asked after Grissom. The doctor's silence puzzled him. Today, the Sheriff was in no mood for hesitation.

"_DOCTOR_…have you _seen_ Grissom???" the Sheriff intoned again.

The older doctor could only look at Brass questioningly. This caused the Sheriff to pause and really observe what was happening here.

In an understanding nod, the Sheriff introduced the doctor to Brass.

Relieved that yet another kidnapping was not going to take place, the older doctor simply turned and opened the door to Grissom's room, implying that they should enter.

Brass gasped at the pale color of Grissom's face. The Sheriff spun around to face the doctor, asking for details without saying a word.

Given the assurances previously given to the first officer, the Sheriff joined the doctor in the hallway. Brass stayed behind for a moment.

He looked at this broken man lying before him

Brass didn't have many friends. And Grissom was…well, was more than a friend. They had been through so much together…and they had their love for Sara to bind them closer.

_What would happen to him if they didn't find Sara in time?_

Brass leaned over Grissom's sleeping form and whispered, "We'll find her, buddy. Don't give up on her. She needs you."

With that, he turned on his heels and left the room, shutting the door quietly.

--------------------------------------------------

The sunshine was so brilliant he had to squint a bit to focus on her exquisite form sitting at the edge of the dock.

He approached her slowly, at the same time wanting desperately to hold her…yet not _wanting_ to reach her.

He was not ready to watch her turn away from him. But who could blame her?

He had failed her. Again.

He was the cause of her current situation. He had not protected her. Again.

She would never want him now.

He knew he would _never_ be able to live without her. Not now. Not after everything they had shared.

He sat down on the first planks of the dock, momentarily smiling at the good feel of the warm waves washing over his bare feet.

Then his smile fell as he looked at her sitting at the end of the stretched out dock.

_Sara…my Sara…but not mine anymore…_

He could never forgive himself for all that she had endured _because of him_…how could he ever expect _Sara_ to forgive him?

She turned as she felt his presence.

At first, she didn't run to him.

She didn't run away from him, either.

She just turned…and smiled at him.

He was putty in her hands. To look upon her brought life to his being… _because of her_.

But he couldn't bear the pain she had been through… _because of him_.

Like her perfect, beautiful butterflies, their time together could only now be a beautiful memory.

Like her perfect butterflies, he had unwittingly, yet undoubtedly, exposed her to such _horrors_…that their dream of being together could only lie dead like her fallen heroes… like their crumpled little bodies…

_Sara…I should have been more careful…I let it all slip away…it is all my fault…_

He had said nothing aloud, he was just staring at her.

Sara started to move towards him, but Gil stilled her motions with his hands.

Curious, she smiled again at him, waiting patiently. Sara knew Gil Grissom like the back of her hands.

Often, he needed time to formulate his words so that he would make things clear to himself first before sharing his thoughts with her.

So she sat, smiling…waiting.

She was not prepared for what things he had finally made clear to himself.

Gil couldn't bring himself to look upon the face that had become his sole reason for living.

"Sara…I love you."

---------------------------------------"I love you, too, Gil…"

"Sara…I'm…sorry…I should have been there… I feel…this is all my fault…"

--------------------------------------"Gil…what?..."

"Sara…they'll find you. When they find you, remember…I'm sorry…."

--------------------------------------"Gil? WHAT has happened?...you're scaring me…please, tell me…"

When he found himself unable to respond, she continued.

--------------------------------------"Gil…whatever it is…we can work it out together…when we get back, we'll…."

She found herself silenced by his steely gaze, a look that penetrated her soul.

This look sliced through her confusion, and was serving up a healthy portion of … anguish.

Sara was now standing with her arms wrapped around herself tightly. A tear was forming in her eyes. She needed him to hold her. But she was going to give him the space he needed now. She loved him enough to wait and let him come to her. She was sure he had something else to say.

Gil was now standing also. He needed to hold her in his arms, this one last time. But he needed to beg her forgiveness before he would feel worthy of that loving touch.

"Sara…I've finally seen the light…I've…messed up too badly this time…you need to understand that I have _always_ loved you and will _continue _to love you, _forever,_ no matter what…

That's why I need…I need to hear you say you can forgive me…for not being there…for not protecting you…for being such an ass about Warrick…for everything…please, honey…please let me know you can forgive me…."

Sara hugged herself tighter. She had soothed his conscience before about their rocky path to finding each other. But there was something different this time.

---------------------------------------------"Forgive you? Of _course_ I forgive you. But Gil, I don't _blame you_ for any of this…it was Ecklie…you'll see, when we get back, you'll see…."

And that was when her whole world was turned upside down.

Gil looked away from her and, glancing out over the beauty of this seascape, spoke in tones slightly above a whisper:

_A little trust that when we die  
We reap our sowing—and so—good-bye! _

_(DuMaurier)_

Sara had not fully heard the content, but gaped wide-eyed as she caught the end of his quiet rant. She continued to stand, not fully believing, when Grissom turned to look upon her sorrowfully.

"Sara…my dearest love……I'm...not _going_ back…"

------------------------------------------------------------

Doc Robbins was sitting glued to the security monitors.

Although he never spent much time in his office, years ago he had insisted on having his private domain fully equipped with monitors, intercoms, and computers tied into the mainframe of the LVPD. Using his handicap as the reason for his request, the department had given him _carte blanche_ to outfit his working area to make the entire department accessible to him.

Today, his past requests may just have saved a life.

As luck would have it, Doc was actually in his office today catching up on paperwork when he first noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Wheeling around in his office chair, he realized the foreign movements were coming from a little used observation camera in the morgue's rear garage area.

This site was not generally used, except in extremes of weather. In some situations, it had been used as a staging area for training exercises by the departments, or an emergency triage center for multi-car accidents when the main hospitals were overworked, or for a makeshift morgue following those events.

Today, however, the crime scene landscape was blessedly peaceful.

Which made movement in that authorized area most noteworthy.

Discerning immediately who the players in the drama were, Doc never took his eyes from the screen while he picked up his cell and speed-dialed the Sheriff.

Before the Sheriff could utter more than his name, the coroner assaulted him with the burning question:

"Is everything alright with Sara?"

The Sheriff's short synopsis caused Doc to close his eyes and hold the receiver against his chest, silent prayers to the heavens that the monitor was displaying a possible conclusion of Sara's current nightmare.

"Sheriff, you need to get your units back here now…no lights or sirens."

Not waiting for further clarification, the Sheriff knew he had good people on the team, and spent no time questioning such a directive.

Barking orders to all units, and shouting for Brass who by now had entered the hospital room where Sara had been last seen, the Sheriff was on the move.

Breathlessly, he spoke: "Al, talk to me…"


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: Okay, okay, I got your message about that last cliffhanger….truth be known, I couldn't concentrate today on anything else either until I had written the resolution to some of the events of the last chapter…please be advised, however, that not _all _things are wrapped up in this one…these two are whispering to me, but I don't have the time to do them justice. Sometimes love is so beautiful, it will make you cry….I will try so hard to update again soon. Your reviews are the best…thanks for everyone who supports this story. You remain great! –Kathy

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"What do you _mean_ you are _not going back_?" Sara practically screamed as her footsteps pounded the dock.

Startled a bit by her sudden movements, Gil was backing off the dock onto the sandy beach.

"Sara…I can't do this anymore."

Gil wanted Sara to understand that he was tired of screwing up.

Gil wanted Sara to understand that he loved her so much he felt he needed to bow out of her life before he caused her irreparable harm.

Gil wanted Sara to understand that he couldn't live without the love he had come to know with her in his life.

But Sara was understanding something else.

He had expected her to protest, but he resolved not to be moved by her words.

He had expected her to plead with him, but he steeled his resolve not to be moved by her tears.

He had _not_ expected the sharp blow to the side of his face as Sara's hand made angry contact.

Stunned, he looked directly into her stare and was startled by the ..what _was_ that he was reading in her angry eyes?

Sara talked through her frown which held her tears at bay, eyebrows knitted angrily as her glare would penetrate the thickest steel…or the most resolved heart.

"So…MR. Grissom…when you said you would love me _forever_…" she paused to swallow the lump that threatened to choke any further speech, "what you _meant _was until I did something else to screw up your _perfect life…_"

Gil raised a hand reflexively to his cheek, instantly reminded of the comfort she had surprised him with all those years ago when she had dusted "chalk" from the same area.

This time, however, her touch was anything but comforting.

"Sara…" Gil began but was cut off again by her increasing anger.

"So…MR. Grissom…when you told me to _hold on to your love_, you _knew…all that time…_that one day my _problems_ would be too much for you to handle…that you knew you had an escape plan from this relationship already in place…that when push came to shove, you would just plan to stay here…and leave me alone…_again_…back there… where I barely made it through the first time…before you promised to love me… _forever_…"

His mind was reeling. That wasn't the truth at all. She wasn't hearing him.

He needed to explain.

She wasn't going to give him that chance.

"I knew from the very beginning that my heart would betray me where you were concerned. Before I even became involved with you, I had my own plan for stopping the …pain…," she needed to draw a deep breath to continue as the tears were pooling before her sorrowing brown eyes, "I should _never_ have listened to you…"

With that, Sara turned and started pounding back down the dock.

Grissom sank to the soft sands of the shoreline and put his head in his hands.

This was _not_ what he had planned.

Instead, he had wanted her to see that he understood why _she_ would not want to be with _him_. He had failed her in so many ways in the last few days.

He was going to make it easier for her by simply refusing to go back.

He loved her enough to lay down his life for her, even if it meant abandoning his work and his relationships with the others.

He loved her enough to give up a chance at happiness with her, because from where he sat Sara only received heartache because of their relationship.

He loved her enough…didn't she _see _that?

Did she really think _he_ did not want to be with _her_?

He jerked his head up, expecting to see her at the end of the dock.

But the wooden walkway was deserted.

_She's gone back…goodbye, my love…_

Gil Grissom sat alone in this paradise, _their_ Better Place, and felt the tears cascading down his cheeks.

He looked out towards the strong waves of the high tide.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, and began to stroll where she had been standing just a few moments before. He wanted to be where he had last seen her loving gaze, the one she reserved just for him.

He could still see her smiling.

He could see her standing there, arms wrapped around her in a self-protective stance. It had hurt him so much to realize he was once again responsible for her need to comfort herself.

He could see…two seabirds making a bee-line towards him.

Grissom tried to dodge the kamikaze birds, but they butted against him intentionally.

Swiping at them actively, cursing them loudly, the duo continued their assault on him until he finally bellowed, "WHAT do you WANT?"

As if in answer to his query, he watched them soar with the precision of an X-15 in an air show as they flew directly to a point over the water not so far off.

They circled noisily in the air.

That was when he spotted her.

"Oh my –" the phrase went unfinished as he dove into the warm waters. With powerful strokes, Grissom prayed while he dodged the incoming surf, focused totally on reaching her before she succumbed to the fatigue that was surely overcoming her by this time.

---------------------------------------------------------

Doc Robbins had directed the Sheriff's units to the morgue entrance.

As requested they entered the lot without lights or sirens.

Doc met them at the usual morgue entrance, speaking in hushed tones with the Sheriff until they reached the corridor entrance to the rear garage area.

The Sheriff had already run through the game plan with the remaining members of the Elite Force. He cautioned Brass and the coroner to hold up the rear and allow his officers to deal with the situation.

In the few moments they had been in the garage, Ecklie had removed Sara's still unconscious form and placed her in the wheelchair. Sofia had continued to remain silent, plotting how she would ensure the demise of this now most-hated enemy.

Ecklie was completely out-of-touch with reality. He was totally oblivious to Sofia's presence. He continued to make soothing sounds in his intimate conversation with Sara.

If a passerby had heard the tone, he could have assumed these two people were in a loving, intimate relationship.

If a passerby had stopped to listen to the words being spoken in such a tone, he would have been shocked and outraged by the crass nature of the monologue.

Ecklie was totally focused on Sara abandoning Grissom, and how many different ways she was going to show Conrad that he indeed was her personal choice over that slimy night shift supervisor.

_Perhaps, _he grinned_, Grissom could even watch us…_

Sofia had finished her plan. She would show Ecklie, Grissom, and the Sheriff. She would show them all.

_If they were so preoccupied with the safety of this little bitch, then she would have to do something that would put them out of their misery._

Sofia smiled demonically.

_It would be easy enough to get around Ecklie. The buffoon was a piece of cake to control on the best of days. And by the look of him, today was definitely not one of his better days._

That is how Sofia found herself behind Sara's wheelchair, talking soothingly to Ecklie that she was going to help him hide Sara from the rest of the team.

Ecklie's eyes mirrored his paranoia.

_The team. They would want Sara back. NO! He would _never_ give her up. He would rather see her _dead_ first_…

The Sheriff's posse chose that exact moment to enter the area silently, still hidden in the shadows of the garage's uneven lighting.

Ecklie slammed his hands off the back of his car trunk.

"They will _never_ get her back! She is _mine_! She chose _me_! I'd rather see her _dead_ first…" , Ecklie ranted as he began to stamp in ever-widening circles away from the area where Sara and Sofia were positioned.

The team took this as their cue to move in. Having spread out around the east perimeter of the area, the Sheriff signaled his team to come forward, as he shouted "Stop right where you are, Ecklie!"

Conrad spun around, not fully understanding his peril. He made a step towards Sara, to protect her from being taken away from him.

The sound of several guns and rifles being cocked into firing position stilled his movements.

Sofia, on the other hand, saw this as her final chance.

She realized they were going to implicate her in this kidnapping.

She realized Sara was going to be rescued.

In an instant, Sofia saw a flash of the Sara's future.

She saw Sara being carried into the Sheriff's office where he would promote her for her courage.

She saw Sara being consoled by the team for the indignities suffered at the hands of Sofia and Ecklie.

She saw the hateful stares of the entire LVPD/CSI staff, directed at Sofia as she sat behind bars.

She saw Sara being whisked away in the arms of a loving Grissom.

_Poor_, pathetic_ Sara would come out on top again. Stealing the life that should have been mine._

Sofia calmly squared her shoulders, thinking:

_I simply cannot let that happen._

And that is how they found Sofia now hunched slightly over the unconscious form of Sara Sidle, holding a cocked service revolver painfully to Sara's tilted neck.

"PUT.IT.DOWN., Sofia!" bellowed the Sheriff.

Sofia laughed, almost enjoying the situation. She relished each time she would gain the upperhand in a battle of wits.

"I'm not on your team anymore, remember? MR. Sheriff???" she intoned scathingly.

"This little bitch has caused me enough trouble to die a thousand times."

This pronouncement made Doc and Brass wince from the shadows.

"_Nobody_ is going to die here today, Sofia," barked the Sheriff in his most commanding tone.

Although the words were not directed at him, they made the coroner's skin crawl.

Sofia laughed again.

"Look at her! Skin, bones, ugly teeth, bruised all over, victimized by that pitiful excuse for a man over there," she nodded her head in Ecklie's direction while not fully looking away from Sara.

"Can someone, ANYONE, _please_ tell me _what _you all see in this little _mess_ of a life?"

"We love her." Brass answered instinctively, without thought to the consequences.

The Sheriff glared in his direction, yet Brass' words alone reverberated throughout the large expanse.

Those words struck a chord with Sofia.

She looked upon Sara with the detachment of a serial killer.

Sofia realized it was over. Sara had won the war.

But Sofia still had the gun.

She yanked Sara's hair roughly backwards, exposing the taut skin of her neck.

Sofia was poised to pull the trigger.

One shot rang out.

No one moved for a full second.

The Sheriff blinked his eyes, hard.

_What had happened here? He didn't give the order to fire!_

All guns were trained on Sofia, all eyes on hers.

As if in slow motion, Sofia slowly released her hold on Sara's hair…before allowing her revolver to fall onto Sara's lap, discharging itself on impact into Sara's thigh.

In the next second, they watched in stunned horror as Sofia's eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled like a discarded rag doll, ending up in a pile on the concrete floor at Sara's feet.

All eyes followed the trail from Sofia to Ecklie who had been standing near the front of his vehicle.

Ecklie's gun was still slightly smoking.

At this point, Conrad felt vindicated. He had stopped Sofia from hurting his true love.

He would be Sara's hero.

She would love him forever.

He wanted to claim her in crushing, loving embrace.

Unfortunately, in his totally psychotic frame of mind, Conrad Ecklie forgot one important fact of life:

"You never rush towards a victim you have assaulted and kidnapped, after you have already killed the person supposed to be your partner, while you are still brandishing a firearm menacingly in front of you. _Especially in a fully fortified police presence_."

Ecklie never made it past the third step.

The Elite Force rushed to secure the scene and ascertain the status of both fallen perpetrators.

As soon as his lead officer called the All-Clear, Doc and Brass, along with the Sheriff, raced to Sara's side.

Doc was assessing her gunshot wound – serious, probably requiring surgery, but not life-threatening. He removed his lab coat and held it as a pressure dressing on the wound.

Brass was barking into this cell for an ambulance _immediately_, followed by a request to central to dispatch two CSIs to his location.

The Sheriff was taking in the scene, wishing Sara would show some sign of waking so he could tell her it was over.

_It was really over._

He would personally destroy the evidence file Ecklie had used to blackmail Sara.

_She could have her life back._

The magnitude of that reality caused the Sheriff to sway slightly.

Concerned eyes met his, but he gruffly reassured the coroner that he was fine.

As the ambulance doors were closing, the Sheriff made an uncharacteristic move and for the second time that week jumped in back to accompany the still sleeping Sara for the short ride to Desert Palms, where her original team of doctors had been updated as to the current situation.

The older doctor took a moment to check in on Grissom. He was pleased that Gil was still asleep, but became quite alarmed when he checked his blood pressure and found it had continued to soar, despite his medication and seemingly restful state.

If the doctor could enter Gil's present state of consciousness, he would understand the reason his psyche was feeling the effects of an elevated heart rate.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Just wanted to leave them in a better place (no pun intended)...this will be another week of night meetings, so I will update as soon as I can...looks like this story is beginning to wind down, although there are a few more chapters left...guess I have decided to do one more story to deal with the whole Andrew situation...hope you will stick around for that one...meanwhile, your continued support of this story, and the many fantastic reviews have been so welcomed. You remain great...I think I smiled the whole time they were dictating this chapter...hope you will, too! -Kathy

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His strong arms propelled him forward, yet the strong waves made reaching her more difficult than he hoped.

He did not want to expend any energy calling to her, as he realized with the roar of the surf she would not hear him anyway.

He wished she would turn around, see that he was coming, that he was almost there to rescue her.

He watched helplessly as she bobbed underwater, spurting salt water with each cough.

He wished she would just tread water instead of continuing her retreat.

He was almost upon her when a larger wave engulfed her. Gil had to dive deep to keep from being pushed back towards shore. He could feel the power momentarily slow him, but his evasive tactic helped him keep his ground.

When he cleared his line of vision, Sara was not in his sight.

He was frantically calling her name, stopping when he noticed the seabirds circling almost directly in front of him.

Grissom reached the spot where Sara was struggling to merely keep her face above water.

He instinctively grabbed hold of her and hoisted her above his head.

Sara was sputtering now, momentarily happy to gain a breath of sun-warmed air.

As he lowered her, they were face to face for a second.

He wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to hold her to him.

He wanted …to be with her forever.

He was not prepared for her response to seeing him.

Sara was struggling to free herself from his grasp.

"Let. Go. Of. Me., Grissom!" she shouted angrily.

Her face was pouting, her voice was screaming, her arms were beating his, her eyes were searing angrily through his.

In some odd sense, her protests were endearing…clearly, he brought out the strongest emotions in her.

God, he loved this woman.

She continued to protest. Grissom held her firm.

She continued to berate him verbally. Grissom held her firm.

She was weakening her physical struggle. Grissom held her firm.

She finally stopped struggling, and angrily blew an errant curl that was encroaching on her line of vision.

_She is so beautiful…even when she's angry with me…_

Just as she was about to continue her rant, Grissom kissed her firmly on the mouth.

Coming up for air, she continued to struggle against him. Grissom kissed her firmly again.

Pulling back, he noticed she kept her eyes closed as his kiss momentarily rendered her speechless.

Then, he noticed a large wave coming towards them.

Sara had regrouped and again resumed her spirited attempts to put distance between them.

So she reacted angrily when he grabbed her and twisted them around so the wave would propel them towards shore.

Sara had opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment the wave overcame them and they found themselves totally submerged for a few hellish seconds.

As the wave passed over, and the water buoyed them to clear air, a clearly panicked Sara found herself sputtering for air and hugging Gil tightly.

He did not speak, relishing his contact with her.

Gil just kept her close and continued to swim and body surf them to shallower waters.

When they reached the edge of the dock, Grissom stood and swept Sara into his arms.

He deposited her gently onto dry sand, rolling her onto her side to help her expel any water left from her harrowing escape.

She would not look at him. She didn't want to talk…about anything.

He had other plans.

Sitting quietly for a few moments, he turned his gaze to her lovely face.

She expected him to chastise her.

She expected him to tell her how foolish she was in trying to throw away this _wonderful_ life she had.

That is why it startled her when he asked so softly she thought at first she had dreamed it:

"I almost cost you your life again, Sara….can't you see why I am just _no good_ for you?"

Sara sat up and turned unbelievingly to look him directly in the eyes.

What she saw there made her heart break.

This man, this wonderful, caring, amazing man loved her with all his heart.

And he blamed _himself _for all the bad things that happened to her, _wanted_ to place the blame, for _every_ hurtful thing that happened to her in her entire life, squarely on his shoulders.

"Gil," she almost whispered as the emotion choked her speech.

"Without you, Gil, there _is_ no life for me. Don't you see that?"

He looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.

She could always get to him, always give him hope, always willingly give him one more chance.

But he didn't deserve that chance.

She would take him back, he would screw up, she would get hurt again…he _couldn't_ do it to her anymore.

He loved her too much for that.

Gil wouldn't look at her, so she moved into his line of vision.

Slightly taller than him now, as she was kneeling up before him, Sara placed a hand alongside his head.

Gil melted into her touch. He needed her so much, it was painful. Sara was his life force.

But he had come here to _protect_ her from all his faults. He had to be firm.

He tried to move away, but Sara's forward momentum pushed him backwards until she lay atop him.

He closed his eyes. He knew if he looked into hers, they would make love right here.

He wanted her.

But he wanted to _protect_ her even more.

He tried to roll her off, but she straddled him, effectively blocking his retreat.

"_Now_, Gil Grissom," Sara spoke authoritatively, "give me _one_ good reason I should let you abandon me and stay here."

"Sara," Gil almost whined. He was unable to think of anything except giving himself entirely to her right here.

"If you think you are protecting me by leaving me alone with Ecklie, think again."

He refused to give her his attention.

Sara frowned, sighed, then refused to seek his gaze as she continued softly, "He hurt me, Gil."

That statement _did_ merit his undivided attention.

Grissom reached up and forced her face to look at him.

"Sara?"

Realizing she didn't have the strength to do this now, Sara tried to pull away, but Grissom held both wrists firmly.

"Talk to me, honey. Please, Sara…"

Sara took a deep breath and tried to explain a _few_ of the details of a _few _of the times she and Ecklie had "interacted" over the years. Even without going into great detail, once Sara began her confession, it was like the floodgates were opened.

She talked about Ecklie trapping her in the supply room, only to be saved when Nick came into the room to replenish his kit.

She told about Ecklie locking her in his office when he had tricked her into coming to a meeting about her performance review, only to be saved by Catherine needing leave of absence papers signed after her mother passed away.

She told him about Ecklie ambushing her in the parking lot after she had pulled a double, only to be saved when Gil himself unexpectedly had exited the building a few moments after her.

She related the events of the night Sofia and Ecklie had abused her in his office, only to once again be saved by her knight in shining armor.

When she finished, she gazed out to sea for a short time before turning to him and saying in a trembling voice,

"I never told those stories to _anyone_ before,Gil. I can handle Ecklie… but I really don't want to do it alone anymore."

Gil was irate. Ecklie had hurt his Sara.

_He had kept her afraid all these years. _

_Why hadn't she said something before this? Why hadn't she asked _him_ for help? _

He knew something wasn't adding up here.

He also knew he was going to _kill _Ecklie.

Sara noticed the change in his muscle tone.

Deep in thought, Sara kept her head turned towards the surf and pleaded with him.

"Gil, if you try to make a move on him, he will _hurt_ you."

Grissom guffawed at the thought.

"_Sara_…I'm _not _afraid that he will hurt me."

Sara whipped her head around, horrified.

_Oh my word, was that a slip of the tongue? I meant to say he will hurt ME…_

"Gil, no, I meant…he would hurt _me_…hurt _me! _"

Sara stumbled around trying to cover her tracks with such urgency that Gil took a good look at the change in her posture.

He grabbed her wrists again and made her look at him.

"Sara…has Ecklie ever threatened you - that he would hurt _me_?" She refused to look him.

"Sara?" She tried to break his hold.

Her silence told the story.

"Oh…_Sara_…sweetheart…" he sighed, pulling her close.

His mounting anger helped him see the situation clearly for the first time.

How had he been so blind to it all this time?

Ecklie had been assaulting Sara, verbally – and now apparently, physically- all these years, and she now had all but admitted to him that she had been suffering at Conrad's hands because of _him_…trying to protect _him_…

_That_ was why she tried to brush off Ecklie's latest attack.

_That_ was why she did not want to file charges with the Sheriff.

_That_ was what the "promise" must have concerned…that Warrick somehow _knew_ about all this…

Gil was silently grateful that Sara at least had _someone,_ like Warrick, she could confide in all these years.

He released her and she expected another lecture.

Instead, Gil reached out and cautiously embraced her face with two hands in the most loving of touches.

When he kissed her, he poured out his sorrow at the pain endured on his behalf, and silently declared his commitment that NOTHING would keep them apart again.

Pulling out of that embrace only slightly, he placed his forehead on hers.

"I have been an old fool…thinking I would even _survive_ one day without you. Sara, I love you. Please, forgive me one more time…."

She was crying now.

She loved this man.

They sat in a face to face embrace for what seemed like hours.

Finally, he sat back and smoothed her drying curls from her smiling eyes.

Gil Grissom sighed. Once again, Sara had saved him from himself.

His next course of action was clear.

Gil surprised her when he spoke:

"Grow old along with me…the best is yet to be."

Sara smiled. "Robert Browning…I love his poetry."

Gil was shaking his head, his smile spreading as if he were taunting her.

She knitted her eyebrows, and then repeated his words to figure out his hidden message.

"Grow old along with me…the best is yet to be."

Gil stilled his movements and pulled her hands to rest over his heart.

"I accept."

Sara was perplexed. _What was he playing at?_

Gil smiled again and repeated his verse, "Grow old along with me…the best is yet to be."

Sara shook her head slightly and a small giggle erupted from her quizzical smile. "Gil?"

He continued shaking his head, a small laugh emerging from his smiling lips.

He pressed her hands harder against his beating heart.

"My darling Sara, grow old along with me…the best is yet to be."

He waited as she mentally reviewed all that had happened since he first uttered those words.

Understanding dawned in her eyes. She stared at him, speechless, overcome with emotion.

He touched her lips with butterfly kisses.

He was a breath away from her when he peered lovingly into her eyes, repeating one last time:

"Grow old along with me…the best is yet to be."

This time, tears flooded her cheeks as she gave him that special Sara smile.

She pulled his hands over her heart and choked out, "Yes, Gil, I _will_ marry you."

They stared deeply into each other's eyes for a moment before she shrieked and threw her arms around him.

By this time, he had pulled them to a standing position and was swinging her around while kissing her with abandon.

After a moment's jubilation, he stopped and stared at her, pausing to move away without breaking eye contact.

"You're really sure?" he hesitated, wanting to be sure she had understood the ramifications of her commitment.

She threw herself on him so swiftly that her momentum caused them both to topple to the soft sand below.

He grabbed her passionately, rolling them over so he was above her.

She stroked his chest. He pressed his hands on both sides of her face to hold back her hair while he crushed her mouth in a hot blooded kiss.

Their few items of clothing were easily removed, and Sara was pulling and tugging at him to get closer.

She wanted to feel him on her, to pull herself so close to him that she could hide herself inside him.

Gil wanted to express his undying love for her, his fundamental need for her, in a way that continued where words failed him.

He stroked and petted. She nibbled and kissed.

He was gentle and loving. She felt adored and cherished.

He used the rhythm of the waves to dictate the music of their love.

She felt the earth move beneath her in the natural culmination of their passion.

He held back enough to join her in the climax of their union, whispering his vows throughout the guttural moans of his ecstasy.

She pulled her arms around his neck, clinging to him, whispering her vows into his ear through the whimpering of her elation.

They lay there for a long time, joined together in body and spirit.

They now lay facing each other, he combing his fingers softly through her hair; she stroking his cheek with her thumb in the fashion that he loved.

Finally, he spoke no louder than a whisper, "When we get back, Sara…I want to marry you…no more waiting…no more worrying…I want to marry you…_today_…"

He no sooner spoke those words, than the reality of their situation washed over him.

Sara immediately noticed the change. "Gil?"

When he wouldn't look at her, she became alarmed.

Releasing herself from his hold, she sat up and made him look at her.

"Gil…if you …have changed your mind…"

He regained his hold on her in an instant.

"I'd rather die than give you up now, Sara. I asked you to be my wife. And I meant it. Don't ever doubt that…"

"Then tell me, Gil…something is wrong…please…Gil…please…Gil…"

She was talking to him, but he couldn't look at her.

Gil lay back onto the soft sand. _I love it here…alone…with Sara…I don't want to go back…I can't lose her again…I just can't survive if they don't find her…and Ecklie…how do I tell her that I am the reason she is gone…I never should have left her…what have I done?...I have ruined everything. I'm sorry, Sara…I'm sorry, Sara…I'm sorry, Sara…_

_----------------------------------_

The older doctor stood next to his bedside, still concerned about his heart rate and the fact that he was still asleep.

Hearing his mumbling, the physician stood closer to his bedside, listening to Grissom utter softly, "I'm sorry, Sara…I'm sorry, Sara…"

Meanwhile, Sara had made it through surgery and was in recovery. The Sheriff was at her bedside and was conversing with Doc Robbins.

They had been discussing the events of the afternoon when Al stopped and turned towards Sara as she began to moan softly.

Hearing her mumbling, the physician stood closer to her bedside, listening to Sara utter softly, "Please….Gil….please…Gil…"


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: This chapter tugged at my heartstrings, but these two insisted on telling their tale. Hope I did it justice. This story winds down within the next chapter or two, so here's the notice I promised you! Thanks to all my amazingly positive reviewers, and to all who have supported this story. You still are terrific! Hope this pleases! –Kathy

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Grissom lay perfectly still in the darkened quiet of his hospital room.

He was sure his heart had just stopped beating.

His mind was replaying the beginning of the conversation he had just heard outside his room between the older doctor and Doc Robbins.

As he had struggled to awaken from his drug-induced rest, the first shock he had received was hearing the low tones of Doc Robbins responding to the older doctor's question about Sara.

"What is Sara's condition?" the older doctor asked.

"She was in surgery…until a short while ago…" Doc Robbins answered.

_They _have_ Sara? She is in _surgery_? My lord, what happened to her?_

Al continued. "She was hit dead-on in the upper thigh, the bullet penetrating through the muscle, tearing through several veins and nicking the hip bone, a real mess – but then close proximity shootings always are…"

Grissom's attention was focusing on sitting up, a small bit of vertigo causing him to fall back onto his pillow with a soft thud.

This action caused him to miss the doctor's next query about "the other woman".

The next conversation Grissom _could_ hear was centered around Sofia, yet he mistakenly thought Sara's condition was still being discussed.

The coroner sighed and said, "No matter what the situation, it's always harder when it's one of our own."

_What is harder? What is _wrong_ with Sara? Where is she now?_

"Have they taken her body to your morgue?" the older man asked.

"Yes, I am actually on my way to start my prelimary…but I wanted to stop and see how Grissom was doing."

_His _prelim_? He is doing _an autopsy_? On Sara? MY SARA? _

Gil was becoming unglued. He was sure his inability to breathe was the beginning of the massive coronary he always feared.

Today, he welcomed death. Then he and Sara would be together.

Tears were running down his face.

_My Sara. My beautiful Sara. _

_I wasn't there to protect her. She must have been so afraid._

_I tried to tell her…I'm no good at this…I tried to tell her…_

_It's my fault…it's all my fault…I'm sorry Sara…I'm so sorry…_

_How do I go on without her? _

_Why do I get to take a new breath each moment while she is lying there…lying there in the…_

He couldn't make himself say the word.

Images floated before him…Sara laughing on the beach…Sara pouting when he wouldn't take an evening stroll with her…Sara angrily blowing that errant curl from her line of vision…Sara beneath him as he made love to her…Sara's smile…

His heart was fluttering with the pain of her loss.

_I have to see her. One more time before…before Al…_

Grissom was a man on a mission. He needed to get over to the morgue before Al touched her.

Gil quickly stood and balanced himself to gain his bearings.

In a moment, he felt stable enough to walk and made his way down the short corridor to the EXIT doors.

Grissom made his way down the three flights of stairs to the hospital lobby, hoping not to attract the attention of any of the Sheriff's men. He didn't' want to waste a moment.

Sara was lying there, all alone.

He needed to be with her, to hold her hand while Doc went about his routine.

He needed to be with her, to find out exactly what caused the death of the sweetest woman to ever grace the earth.

He needed to be with her.

Gil somehow managed to drive himself to the lab. Shakily, he parked near the morgue entrance around back and made his way down the hall.

Grissom passed several lab techs who thought nothing of seeing him in the building. They really paid little attention to him as he proceeded slowly down the corridor leading to Doc Robbin's operating theatre.

If they had stopped to really look at him, they would have seen a man completely consumed in grief.

Grissom stopped outside the polished stainless steel doors. It took a moment for him to muster the courage to go into the room.

He couldn't count how many autopsies he had witnessed in his career. Sometimes, he would join Doc while the coroner crooned a tune during his work.

But Grissom would not allow any such merriment today.

Sara was dead.

There was no joy left in the world.

Grissom stood by the door.

She lay there in front of him on the autopsy table, her lanky form covered from head to foot with the department issued white cotton sheet.

He needed to muster his courage to walk over and pull the corner of the sheet to expose her face.

That face.

The face that had haunted his dreams for over nine years.

The face that beamed at him when he had made her happy.

He needed to see that face one more time.

Gil walked over to the body, and raised his hand near her head.

He froze. After a while, he placed his hand lovingly on the crown of her head, careful to not disturb the head covering.

His tears were occluding his vision, or he might have noticed that the pressure of his hand had displaced enough of the sheet to release a single blonde wisp of hair.

Gil closed his eyes and moved his hand away from the white covering.

He couldn't do it. He loved her so much. But he just couldn't look upon her _here._

Once again, he was angry that he _couldn't_ die right here on the spot.

That is why he found himself heading to his office. Without turning on the light, he headed towards the shelving unit where he kept his kit – and his service revolver.

With his inside pocket bulging under the weight of the firearm, Grissom headed out to his Denali.

Having unlocked the door, he slid in behind the driver's seat and stared blankly ahead of him, deciding upon his destination.

His plan was to head into the western desert and just drive until he was out of fuel. Then he would walk for a while before he used his revolver to end his pain.

_Then we'll be together again, my darling Sara. Please, honey…wait for me…I'm coming._

Gil was pulled from his thoughts by the sensation of cool air, the intrusive glare of the interior car light, and the sound of the passenger door being pulled open and slammed shut.

He turned, stunned, to find himself face-to-face with an angry Jim Brass.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

-----------------------------------------------------

Sara was lying in her hospital bed, only half awake.

She always had trouble coming out of anesthesia. Her limbs would betray her and remain stubbornly immobile, and her eyelids would refuse any commands to open.

So Sara lay there, apparently still asleep.

She could make out the Sheriff's voice, most likely talking on his cell. Mentally, she smiled – he _would_ be the only person who could claim an exception to the "no cell phone" rule.

Sara could hear the Sheriff end his call and then begin speaking to someone who just entered the room.

The voice seemed familiar, but her synapses were not firing as reliably as usual. After a while, she remembered – it was the older doctor who treated her during her first admission.

She heard Gil's name mentioned. She tried to make herself concentrate.

_Had something happened to him? He had just asked her to …oh my word…GRISSOM!...is he alright?...did something happen to him?...please…someone…tell me he is okay…_

The older doctor continued, "I had just looked in on him. His pulse rate was quite high, even with the mile sedative and the beta-blocker I had given him."

Sara recalled the Grissom had admitted to her once that his one phobia was dying of a massive coronary.

_But the doctor gave him medication. He should have been okay after that. What happened to Grissom? Is he alright now?_

The Sheriff was saying something about the stress of Sara's disappearance.

_Disappearance? I remember someone coming into the room. I remember being too tired to open my eyes. No one would have hurt me! Gil was with me! Wasn't he? WASN'T HE?_

Sara honestly had no recollection of who had entered her room. She only remembered her nightmare.

_It was a really bad nightmare. But Gil always knows how to help me come out of it. _

Sara's heart stopped beating for a moment.

She _did_ have a really bad nightmare. But Gil had _not_ been there to help her out of it.

_Why hadn't he been there? Where had he gone? He promised to stay with me._

_Why hadn't he been there with her in the room? Wait! Why wasn't he _here_ with her _now

Sara's foggy state was making her more anxious as she had many questions but was getting no answers.

She heard the Sheriff proffer an expletive when the doctor told him that he must have waited too long to check on Grissom, because by the time he went back into his hospital room Gil was "gone".

Her fears were overcoming her reason. Sara tried to calm herself, deciding to try to pay attention to the conversation at her bedside, hoping to discern more information.

Sara was hearing the Sheriff who was responding to the last inquiry of the doctor, but in her panic about hearing he had "gone", she had missed the doctor's question about "the man who had kidnapped Sara". She thought they were still talking about Grissom.

"The body has been taken to the LVPD morgue. I spoke to Al Robbins before he left. We spoke outside Grissom's room. Al had just wanted to see Grissom once more before he headed back to the morgue to begin the preliminary autopsy."

If Sara had not been lying down, she would have fallen.

_This can't be real. I must be delusional, from the drugs. I will open my eyes…right now…and there won't be anyone there._

Sara used every ounce of strength to force her eyelids to a semi-open position.

Her heart fluttered as she watched the Sheriff nodding at something the older doctor was saying.

Her eyelids clamped shut.

_Oh my god…oh my god…NO…NO!!!!!!!!!...please…I need Grissom…please…no…he can't be …dead…oh my god, no…please…he asked me to marry him…he promised..."the best is yet to be"…NO…NO!!!!!!!!..._

Sara's panic was causing the adrenaline to surge throughout her body. This was causing the sedative effect of the drugs to wear thin.

The Sheriff and the older doctor snapped their heads in her direction as they heard her moan, "Nooooooooo…Noooooooo". The doctor sprang to observe the readings of the machines hooked up to Sara. He frowned at the irregular pulse. He attributed her erratic readings to her level of post-operative pain.

The Sheriff glanced at Sara, who was in obvious distress. He attributed her frantic movements to an awakening realization of all that Ecklie had put her through.

The doctor paged the surgeon, long minutes waiting at the door for a consult.

The Sheriff tried to hold Sara's hand, but she wanted no physical contact.

_He's gone…my Grissom is gone…Gil…you promised you would never leave me again…why couldn't we just stay in our Better Place…I wish I were dead…then we could be together…forever…_

The alarms sent both physician and surgeon scurrying from their hallway consultation into Sara's room.

They decided that a sedative would keep Sara calm and would help reduce the obvious post-operative stress her body was under.

The hypodermic needle emptied its blessed relief into her IV. Sara felt her movements stilling and her thoughts going to black.

Her last thought was of his face, smiling and repeating "The best is yet to be…."

Then the nightmare she was facing became temporarily interrupted.

------------------------------------------

Brass was impatient. "I _said_ what the _hell _were you thinking? Driving away from the hospital with all those sedatives in your system! You could have killed someone, _including _yourself…you really think that was going to solve anything?"

Brass, as the others, had mistakenly assumed that Gil had left the hospital to search for Ecklie.

Grissom refused to look at Brass. All his thoughts were consumed with seeing Sara's body on that cold slab. He wished he had been brave enough to remove that sheet and kiss her goodbye.

Now, he would never get that chance.

He wanted to die.

Now.

He had to get rid of Brass. He had to keep his date with destiny.

He wanted to be where Sara was.

But Brass had been getting progressively louder and when Gil did not respond, Brass grabbed him by the jacket to turn to face him.

That was when he felt the nub of the gun in Gil's inside jacket pocket.

"What the hell?..." Brass padded down the jacket and reached in to remove the weapon.

Furious, he grabbed Grissom by the collar and demanded answers.

Brass knew that Gil was upset about Sara's abduction at Ecklie's hands, but _this_?

"What were you doing? Planning on running out on her _again_? Going to allow the rest of us to pick up the pieces after you ran out on her _again_?"

The accusation hit home. Gil pictured Sara, his beautiful Sara, lying in state surrounded by flowers and friends…and he would be the only one not there.

He knew he wouldn't be able to do it, though. No, his plan was simpler…and then he and Sara would be together.

Brass shook Gil a second time. Seeing the tears in his eyes, however, Brass immediately lost his anger and replaced it with worried concern.

"Gil…calm down…talk to me, buddy…Sara…she's out of danger now…she – "

But Gil's shaking shoulders stopped Brass dead in his tracks.

He had seen Grissom worried and anxious, but he had never seen him cry unconsolably.

_Something is not adding up here._

"Gil…talk to me…what has happened to you?"

Gil let the tears fall, but pulled himself together enough to try to answer.

"I…I went to …see Sara…but I couldn't do it….she was just lying there…I…oh, God…I couldn't do it…I couldn't do it…" he broke down into body shuddering sobs.

Brass was now thoroughly confused.

Gil said he went to see Sara, but everyone surrounding Sara was looking for Grissom.

_Something is not adding up here._

Either Grissom was suffering from drug-induced delusions, or someone was making a terrible mistake. Ever the detective, Brass decided to gather enough evidence to help him decide what the hell was going on with his friend.

"Gil…buddy…_where_ did you say you went to see Sara?"

It was silent in the car for a long moment, Gil needing the time to force himself to say the words.

He closed his eyes, without looking at Brass, shaking his heads as the words caught in his throat, "The morgue…she was so still…I tried to…see her…one more time…just one more kiss…but now…it's too late…it's too late…it's all my fault-" was all Grissom could get out before his sorrow became too unbearable to continue.

Brass just sat there, uncomprehending.

_How had this gotten so screwed up?_

He looked with pity on this man who, within a matter of a few weeks, had admitted his feelings to his true love – only to feel he had lost her.

_The pain…he is in so much pain…if I talk to him, he won't believe me…there's only one thing to do…_

That is how Brass found himself barking into this cell phone for a uniform to bring a squad car to his location _immediately…_

And that is how a dazed, confused Gil Grissom found himself on the way back to Desert Palms

-------------------------------------------

Brass hadn't told him where they were headed.

Gil really didn't care anymore.

When he saw the hospital landscape a block before them, he assumed Brass was bringing him back to be evaluated.

Maybe that would not be so bad.

They would make his sleep…and he could forget his waking nightmare.

Every movement was painful. With every step he took, Gil felt he was walking one step farther away from the last time they were together.

"_My darling Sara…no more waiting…no more worrying…I want to marry you…today…"_

His memory of those words haunted him.

Gil was so focused on his memories, he only faintly registered that Brass had forced him into a wheelchair and had brought them into the elevator.

The Sheriff had been seated by Sara's bed, concerned about the latest report from the surgeon and the older doctor.

While the wounds seemed to be stabilized, her curious reaction upon wakening had not been explained to his satisfaction.

The older doctor did mention Grissom telling him that Sara reacted negatively to sedation, and currently that was the accepted explanation for her outburst.

When he heard footsteps outside Sara's door, the Sheriff instinctively laid a hand over his firearm. He was done taking chances with Sara's safety.

Imagine his surprise at seeing Brass' head peek in to ascertain Sara's condition before bracing the door open and tugging at an unresponsive Grissom to remove him from the wheelchair.

Gil's gaze fell on the Sheriff. He wanted to hurt this man.

The Sheriff _must_ have known Sara would be in danger from Ecklie.

Why didn't his guard stop him? If the Sheriff had done his job, Sara would be –

Those thoughts stuck in his throat as his gaze went from the Sheriff and fell on the figure on the bed.

Gil blinked. Hard.

His mouth flew open.

Brass instinctively moved closer to Grissom, who looked in danger of keeling over.

The Sheriff was not clear as to what was happening, but understood by Brass' movements that something monumental was happening here.

Brass took Gil's elbow and moved him forward. The Sheriff instinctively pulled his own chair closer to Sara's bed so that Gil could be seated close to her.

Grissom wouldn't recall sitting down. He wouldn't recall reaching out to hold her hand.

But when he did secure her hand within his own, Gil Grissom was sure he would _never_ forget the sound of her quiet sigh, or her whispered _"Grissom_" before she settled calmly back to sleep.

Tears fell down Gil's stunned face.

But his small smile would make both the Sheriff and Brass clear their throats roughly before leaving the room to give these two some privacy.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Thanks for your patience in awaiting this update...pressing family matters. I feel, as I began writing this chapter, that perhaps I was a bit hasty in proclaiming the end is in sight. I promise when I finally get it all worked out, you will have a one chapter notice to say there the end is coming. For now, I love what these two are saying to me.

Once again, I feel like this is a quiet chapter – one which merely sets the stage for the next level of action. This being the week before Easter, I just don't know how much time I will have, but I assure you, I will update as soon as possible. Thanks for your wonderful reviews and your great support of this story! You remain great! –Kathy

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Andrew stalked the hallways looking for _someone_ to tell him what all the hubbub was about.

The lab's gossip line was circulating the story that someone had been shot and killed right here in the LVPD building, yet no one could confirm it.

The Sheriff, Grissom, Sara, Ecklie, the coroner, and Detective Brass were all out "on assignment", yet there was no paper trail to indicate the crime scene in which they were all involved.

Andrew had tried Sofia's cell phone a few times, but it went directly to voice mail.

_Something is very wrong here._

Walking back to his office, Andrew remembered the hastily hidden information that he had removed from Ecklie's secret file. Perhaps this would be a good time to familiarize himself with these materials, seeing as most of the prying eyes were out of the building.

He had almost reached his office door when the commotion at the front desk caught his attention.

Judy was trying to calm the harried couple insisting on speaking to the Sheriff or Detective Brass.

Rather, the taller male was insisting. The diminutive blonde next to him kept wiping at her eyes in an attempt to keep her composure. It was obvious to even the casual observer that her emotions were barely kept restrained, much to the consternation of the well-appointed gentleman to her right.

Judy had asked them to be seated but the gentleman was having nothing more to do with her apparent inability to get him what he requested _immediately._

After another moment, he seized the smaller woman's arm and started to make their way down the lab hallway towards the Sheriff's corridor – showing a surprising familiarity with the building's layout.

Judy buzzed security and began to follow the couple. With her Cuban heels clicking rhythmically on the floor tiles, she was addressing them loudly but was obtaining no response.

Andrew was just standing near his door, taking in the scene, when suddenly the woman caught his eye and immediately nudged her companion as she slowed her steps.

"_Andrew_? Is that…really _you_?" the woman asked, almost inaudibly through shaky tears.

"Mr. and Mrs. Curtis! What brings _you _to CSI?"

---------------------------------------------------- 

Talking briefly to the Sheriff, Brass had filled in the details of Grissom's situation.

"He thought Sara was _dead_?" the Sheriff winced.

"Does Grissom know what happened back at the lab tonight?"

To the best of his knowledge, Brass was sure Grissom was in the dark about the morbid fate of Ecklie and Sofia.

"Perhaps it would be best if you talked to both of them together, Jim," said the Sheriff in an unusual use of Brass' first name. 

"Can do," Brass replied, appearing confident, although he was already trying to figure out exactly how to broach the subject without causing Sara additional pain.

"I'm returning to the lab. I still need to contact Ecklie's family," the Sheriff sighed. He hated this part of the job.

And then there would be the media to contend with. _That_ thought made the Sheriff shudder inwardly.

He shook his head, squared his shoulders, and went into work mode.

"I've already put in a call to Sofia's family. They should be returning my call shortly. I will expect you to stay here with these two until one of them is stable enough to care for the other," the Sheriff said.

He continued, "I've asked for an extra bed to be brought into Sara's room. Grissom needs rest for another day. I believe now that Sara is found…" the Sheriff took a deep breath, "Keeping Grissom and Sara in one room will be much more convenient for them….for the _doctors_," he added the explanation a bit too hastily.

This action garnered a small smile from Brass. _You _are_ a closet romantic, Sheriff!_

As if on cue, they turned to find an orderly bringing the extra bedding and supplies to outfit the other bed in the room.

Following the orderly into the hospital room, Brass' heart melted at the sight of a very tired Grissom leaning over the edge of Sara's bed, his mental exhaustion letting sleep claim him while gripping her hand tightly and using it as a pillow.

It took two men to finally pry his fingers open gently enough to remove Sara's hand from his without waking him. 

It took all three men to raise Grissom from his chair and onto the adjacent bed gently enough to only momentarily rouse him before the much needed sleep claimed him again.

It took the dream of one beautiful CSI to send him to his Better Place.

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He found himself standing on the dock. The warm breeze felt refreshing after his stint in Sara's hospital room.

Gil whipped around, anxious to get his arms around her.

Locating her, however, sent his heart racing. _Could this really be…_

Sara was sitting with her back to the dock.

She was crying softly, conversing with some very special friends.

Alighting in almost a semi-circle before her, Sara's one-and-only butterfly friends were giving her their undivided attention.

In her outstretched palm, a two-toned butterfly was making smoothing and soothing motions with its wings.

As Gil approached Sara, he could hear her heartbreaking words:

"…and I couldn't get anyone to _tell_ me anything…that's…that's when I heard them say…he was.._gone_…oh…" Sara took in some shuddering breaths before continuing.

The semi-circle seemed to be fluttering closer to her. Two of her tiny friends launched themselves onto her lap.

But it was her two-toned friend to whom Sara seemed to be directing her speech.

"Then…then they said that Doc was heading back to….to start…oh, Gil…oh my god, Gil…" 

Sara found herself unable to sit up. Her grief had taken hold of her heart, leaving little energy in her very tired form.

Gil stood immobile.

He wanted to race to her and sweep her into his arms.

But he was afraid the shock of his sudden appearance might be too much for her.

_I want to hold her. I need to find out why she is so upset. WHO was gone? WHO was Doc starting his prelim on? I had thought it was Sara…thank goodness I was mistaken...I know I could never have survived if she…if she…_

Gil was beginning to hyperventilate a bit recalling the stress caused by overhearing Doc's cryptic conversation. He tried to calm himself. Sara was safe. Sara was alive. Sara needed him.

_What should I do? I hear her calling for me, but I don't want to startle her. I know she needs me now, but _I _am really the one who needs to be close _to her_, to know she really is _alive_…really is _mine_…._

Without a plan, Gil sat down on the shoreline. He watched helplessly as Sara lay crumpled on the sand.

Finally, he couldn't wait any longer. 

Pulling himself into a kneeling position, he listened to the waves lapping onto the sand below him.

Keeping the natural rhythm of the water, Gil softly called Sara's name over and over.

Sara was sobbing, yet deep within her weary soul she began to notice that something around her had changed.

Her tears still falling, Sara felt herself being lulled by the natural rhythms of the waves into a calmer disposition.

_He promised he would be with me always, he would never leave me…perhaps…here…in _this _place…he might still be able to…_

She felt she could even imagine him calling to her over the great divide that separates this world from the next, much like this – their Better Place.

It took a moment for that concept to gel. 

She had accepted that he was now lost to her back there in _that _reality.

But…could it be possible that…_here_…?

Sara stood up and slowly turned towards the shore.

The sight of Gil Grissom grinning widely with tears glistening in his eyes was a sight Sara would surely dream about in the future.

But for now, she needed to be sure she reached him before this mirage disappeared into the ugly reality from which she had fled.

They raced towards each other, bodies slamming happily together.

Lips, arms, legs – they did not possess one body part that wasn't crying to maintain contact.

Happy butterflies circled them as they slowly fell to the sandy beach, taking turns rolling together so each had the upper hand to gaze unbelievingly down at the other before they rolled and gave the other a turn at top.

They rolled happily like this, kissing and weeping tears of joy, until they came near the water's edge.

Gil stood suddenly and scooped Sara into his arms, running into the warm surf.

He stopped in waist-deep water, spinning her delightedly and kissing her passionately before starting the sequence once again.

Gil waded out a bit deeper, the soft pounding of the low tide waves soothing the aches and pains of their bodies.

But it would take a while for their hearts to return to normal.

He wanted to make love to her right there, but he knew they needed to talk about what had happened back there. 

He had been so happy to see her, he had not really focused on her face.

Sara stared at him so intently, as if she were afraid to blink because he might disappear.

_I don't know how long I have with him here…will he just disappear?...will he see a white light?... will I have a chance to say goodbye this time?...I can't do it!…I _know_ I won't be able to do it…How do you say goodbye to someone you love more than life itself?_

Sara's tears began to flow. She did not speak a word, but silently helped him rid himself of the cumbersome clothing that he wore.

Sara's tears continued to flow the entire time she was peppering a trail of loving kisses from his neck through to his heart.

_His bigger- than- life heart. I wonder if Doc will see my name emblazoned on it._

That thought brought an onslaught of new tears, but Sara continued her downward movements to massage and kiss his body, sending him to the point of ecstacy.

_If this is going to be our last time together, I want him to experience the _depth_ of my love._

Though Gil wanted to join in the lovemaking, Sara had made this about so much more than physical pleasure. She was demonstrating her deep connection to him on so many levels, that Gil found himself unable to do more than willing oblige her efforts to please him.

His need for her made his arousal quick and his release relatively soon to follow.

Afterwards, Sara leaned back while still massaging his chest with both open-palmed hands. That was the first time Gil noticed her face was flooded with tears.

_Had she been crying the whole time she was making love to me?_

Worried about her, Gil wanted her to know how much she had pleased him. He also wanted her to know exactly why this lovemaking session had become such a special memory.

_A few hours ago, I thought about you lying in your coffin, with your friends standing around you, and flowers everywhere. But… you didn't die…YOU DIDN"T DIE!_

Gil's tears soon joined Sara's as they both lay there in the soft sand; his tears springing from the relief and the joy of having his love returned to him, and hers coming from the despair and the loss of thinking her wonderful Grissom had been taken from her lonely life.

Gil needed to explain the hell he had been through, to proclaim again and again his never-ending love for her, and to take his turn at expressing physically the depths of his joy at finding her alive. 

Grissom now sat her on his lap, her long legs outstretched atop of his sandy ones. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and started to speak.

"Oh, Sara…it was the worst thing I have ever experienced…"

He wanted to tell her about his confusion in thinking erroneously that she had been killed.

He wanted her to comfort him by letting him confront the pain of his mistake while holding her in his arms.

Instead, Gil was shocked at her response to his desire to talk.

"NO!" Sara started angrily, trying to put some distance between them.

"Sara? What's wrong, honey? Talk to me…" Gil said calmly, inwardly worried and confused by her behavior.

"I don't want to think about _back there_. I don't want to talk about _back there_. I don't want to GO _back there_!" Sara was becoming hysterical now.

"Sara, honey, calm down…it will be alright…" Gil began, but Sara by now had freed herself and was stomping up and down the sandy terrain, out of his grasp but never too far from him.

Her mood was frightening him.

"I'm not going back. You and I…we will just…stay here…be happy here…I'm _not_ talking about anything that happened back there…just…just stop talking…_stop_ it!" Sara was fighting off Gil's attempt to regain his hold on her.

In her fragile condition, Sara was not match for a determined Gil Grissom.

"Honey…you're alive…you're _alive_, Sara…I thought…I thought you were _dead_…Sara, I need you….please, don't do this…please, let me hold you…I need to _hold_ you, Sara…" Gil pleaded almost frantically.

Sara was at the edge of her sanity. Her tears still falling, her movements slowed as the information found in Gil's words was confusing her. 

_He thought _I_ was dead? _

Sara calmed a bit. The investigator in her was confused and was now in need of answers.

She swiped at her eyes, but did not release him from her stare.

I'm _not dead! _Who_ told him I was dead? I'll kick their ass for scaring him like that!_

_He thought I was dead…did he…did he end his own life…to try to be with me?...no, Gil would never do that…would he?..._

Sara had so many questions now.

There was only _one way_ to get to the bottom of this.

Unhappily, she knew she needed to listen as Grissom would tell her exactly what had happened to him, what had caused his premature death.

Sara took a deep breath.

_I need the facts. Gil needs me to know the details of how he died. _

_That is what he needs…and I always told him I would do _anything_ for him…_

So Sara sat back down on Grissom's lap. He hugged her close, kissing the crook of her neck which caused goosebumps to form over her lean, suntanned arms.

When he finished relating the details of the overheard conversation between the older doctor and the coroner, Sara began to find it difficult to breath.

_That…that is almost what _I _overheard between the older doctor and the Sheriff! Is…is it possible…that Gil is NOT dead?_

Sara turned her body so she now sat straddling his lap. Moving her eyes towards Grissom, Sara put her hand on the side of his face.

Again, he melted into her touch. "Sara…I need you…don't ever leave me."

She wanted to jump back into his embrace, but she needed to get some definitive answers.

"Gil…what happened to _me_ back there tonight?"

How could Gil tell her that the Sheriff had given him the task of trying to find her kidnappers by revisiting the scene of her abduction? That he left her alone in the hospital room, even though he should have been there with her? That he left her vulnerable to attack by worrying about the processing of her evidence samples?

Grissom found himself dodging that point for now. Instead, he told Sara about feeling faint and being assigned bed rest for a week. That was when the doctors had given him some sedatives to help him relax and that's how he fell asleep and now had to deal with missing pieces.

Sara stared and finally surprised him as she burst out laughing.

Through her reemerged tears, Sara laughed, "So…_you_…Grissom…you _didn't_ die today?..."

Gil looked shocked, then smilingly replied, "And…_you_…Sara…_didn't, _either!"

----------------------------------------------

Their joy was complete. 

Their lovemaking was unbridled and passionate. 

Their ignorance of the death of their colleagues was to be short-lived. 

Their visit to their Better Place would soon be interrupted. 

Sofia's interference in their lives was far from over.


	42. Chapter 42

A/N: Your patience waiting for this update will be rewarded by the fact that it is long enough to be two chapters, but the story needed to flow together so there's only one. With the Easter weekend, I know I will have little time to update before next week. My continued thanks for the terrific reviews! They always let me know if the story is on track. To all who continue to support this story, you are the inspiration I need to stay up late to continue writing. I haven't decided yet if Andrew will turn out to be a good guy or not, so don't look for clues until the next chapter. Your opinions will matter greatly, so express them as you review! You remain terrific! –Kathy

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He was having one hell of a day.

As the Sheriff was heading down the corridor leading to his just-arranged meeting with one of the techs he had planted in the lab, his thoughts turned tumultuous, reeling over the events of the last hour…

Having left Brass in charge at the hospital, the Sheriff reluctantly returned to his office to await the dreaded return call from Sofia's parents.

He had never devised an easy way to tell parents that their child was dead.

Moving through the main doors of the LVPD building, his attention was immediately riveted on the side hall leading to his office.

There was some trouble there involving security guards, the receptionist, what looked like CSI Canalla, and…oh, lord…Mr. and Mrs. Curtis.

The officers were trying to physically evict the red-faced Mr. Curtis from the hallway; apparently verbal explanations concerning their trespass were falling on deaf ears.

Andrew was trying to smooth things over for the couple, but was being sequestered to the back of the fray.

Mrs. Curtis had simply dissolved into tears, and was being berated by her husband to "stop the drama".

The Sheriff's initial reaction to this scene was – _turn and run_

His professional ethics taking over, however, he charged forward barking orders to the guards, who immediately stepped away from the harried couple.

"_Dismissed!_" ordered the Sheriff in a tone that brokered no argument.

Mrs. Curtis immediately turned away from her husband, as if worried that he might strike out at her now that he was freed from the guards' possession. She calmed herself, swiped at the eyes, and then turned towards the Sheriff as she continued to put distance between herself and her spouse.

"What have _you _to do with all this, Andrew?" the Sheriff asked a bit testily.

"Well…" Andrew began, but was cut off by Mrs. Curtis.

"Andrew is a longtime friend of our Sofia's. They worked together for several years before she came to Las Vegas, he came to dinner a few times when Sofia -"

Mr. Curtis interrupted her discourteously. "Zip it, Suzanna!"

He then directed his speech to the Sheriff.

"Sheriff, I received your call, and assumed that something important has occurred concerning Sofia. I decided we would come to address you in person, as I have no desire to discuss the future of my daughter's fledgling career with the LVPD over the phone."

The man's candor caused a new ulcer to form in the Sheriff's digestive system.

"Let's take this to my office, shall we? Mrs. Curtis, if you'd be so kind as to let me lead you to my office…" the Sheriff intoned gently to Sofia's mother, purposefully ignoring the glares of her 

husband, who felt as if the Sheriff had slighted him by directing a response towards his reticent wife.

As the group headed down the hallway, the Sheriff stopped to ask again, "What have you to do with all _this_, Andrew?"

Before Andrew could take his leave, a mother's intuition as to the purpose for the Sheriff's call had Suzanna placing a timorous hand on the young man's forearm as she smiled meekly towards the Sheriff, "I…I would feel better if he stayed."

The Sheriff nodded slightly in agreement, anything to help this quiet woman handle the news, and suddenly they found themselves at the doorway into his office.

As soon as everyone was made comfortable and the appropriate warnings about disturbances to their conversation were phoned into his secretary, the Sheriff sat down at his desk.

He looked very official behind his large wooden desk.

He had the home field advantage.

He looked for a second at the team sitting opposite of him.

He took a deep breath and set the game afoot.

"There is no easy way to say this, folks…today, in the garage area of this very building, Sofia was involved in an exchange of gunfire…and was killed. I am so sorry to be the one to have to break this news to you."

He gave them a minute to absorb this news. All three pairs of eyes bored through him, unbelieving.

After a moment, Sofia's father had regained his outward composure. The small crack in his voice at the onset of his response was the only telltale hint as to his shock on hearing this news.

"Was it a drawn out passing, or did she die quickly?"

The Sheriff answered that and many more questions about Sofia's death. So far, the parents seemed to grasp the situation and accept the news the way any set of parents of law enforcement officials do when faced with such a tragedy.

That is, until Andrew spoke up.

"How did Sofia wind up in the middle of a gunfight _here_, in the LVPD building? Who fired the bullet that ended her life? And _WHAT_ were _YOU_ doing to prevent this from happening to her?" Andrew ended heatedly, his voice's volume increasing with the continuing stream of questions.

Andrew was about to lose his composure. _Sofia was dead_. While he knew she didn't actually endear herself to people at the lab, he was sure no one hated her THAT much.

_Time for a heavy dose of truth_ the Sheriff thought, steeling himself for the inevitable reaction to his disclosure.

So, he found himself telling them that Sofia had actually been involved in a hostage situation, but this time it was Sofia who had taken a hostage.

He told the shocked trio that she had an accomplice who had done the actual kidnapping, but Sofia had done everything to help the offender and his victim hide out from an intensive police search for them.

His revelations were accepted without comment – until he relayed the last bit of information.

At hearing that his daughter had placed a gun to another woman's head and threatened to shoot her, Mr. Curtis bolted to his feet, slamming his fist repeatedly on the heavy wooden desk in time with his words, 

"MY. DAUGHTER. HAS. BEEN. SET. UP.!"

He continued proclaiming her innocence, that there was a missing piece of evidence that would help them understand the _truth_ behind what had really happened, that anyone who knew Sofia also knew she was incapable of such a criminal act.

The Sheriff now stood and counted to ten before speaking in a strained voice.

"I _know_ the truth of what happened. I was there. I witnessed the entire exchange. This was a justified shooting."

These words infuriated her father even further.

"You… were there…and you could do nothing to help her? After all she has meant to this department?"

He shook his head in disgust.

"Wasn't it you who just gave her that promotion? Who just gave our Sofia that commendation for excellence in producing the evidence needed to convict that murderer?"

The two men stood facing each other, the anger barely concealed on both parties.

"Mr. Curtis, Sofia…was aware of her actions…she placed that woman's life in danger…the shooting, however regrettable, _was_ justified."

"Who is this person, the one our Sofia is accused of endangering?" demanded her father, totally dismissing the facts in the case.

"It was one of our CSI's…one of Sofia's colleagues…" was all the Sheriff wanted to disclose.

Mr. Curtis was not to be dissuaded this day.

"I ask you again, sir…who is this person? What relationship did she have with Sofia?"

The Sheriff bristled. He glanced at the silently weeping mother, and then his gaze shifted to the angry eyes of Sofia's confidante.

"It was CSI Sidle. Sara Sidle." He had now drawn his line in the sand. This was the only definitive information he would be releasing today.

Andrew's face fell. _Princess? Sofia was killed for trying to off the Princess?_

He remembered the night he had arrived in Vegas, recalling Sofia's musings as they lay on her silken sheets.

_He has asked her: "What are you thinking about now?"_

_Sophia sighed and responded pointedly, "Just thinking about what I'd like to do to Sara Sidle."_

Andrew knew Sofia had seen Princess as standing in the way of getting what she wanted.

She had wanted Grissom. Sofia was used to getting what she wanted.

_But…perhaps she didn't know the facts…about Grissom and Sidle's _long term_ relationship…that file…I have to get back to read that file…_

Andrew had rejoined the scene before him as the Sheriff was trying to placate Mr. Curtis that indeed there were other witnesses to what had happened in the garage.

"Well, I demand to talk with these "other witnesses"…there wouldn't happen to be any that are not on _your payroll_, I suppose," laying the insinuation on the table before a now clearly angry Sheriff.

"I am sure the surveillance tape will adequately vindicate my recollection of the events as they occurred, Mr. Curtis," the Sheriff said testily, clearly finished with this conversation.

"I demand to see it! I will get a court order if I have to!" responded the almost-hysterical older man.

"Then I will expect to see you and your lawyer together with one in hand!" the Sheriff barked.

It was the small whimper from the chairs directly behind him that caused the disgusted father to cease his rant and the Sheriff to close his eyes briefly to regain control of his speech.

While her husband looked disdainfully on her lack of propriety, the Sheriff left his spot behind his desk and found himself kneeling before a clearly distraught Mrs. Curtis.

"Ma'am. I am so sorry to have to tell you about your daughter. Up until today, she had done remarkable work for the department. She was someone you could be proud of."

The grieving mother swiped at her eyes and gave him a forced, small smile. "Thank you for that, Sheriff."

Purposely not daring a look at her husband, she asked timidly, "May…May we see her?" and noticing the hesitancy in his response, she placed her hand gently atop his left hand as it gripped the side of her chair, "Please?"

The Sheriff patted her hand with his right hand as he stood.

"I will call ahead and alert them that you are on your way. Please give them a few minutes to…please give them a few minutes."

With that, Andrew moved towards Mrs. Curtis and helped her to her feet. As the duo moved towards the door, they were startled by her husband's final words.

"This is _not over_. I demand a formal investigation into the life of this other CSI you so hastily called Sofia's "victim"."

He leaned menacingly over his wife's empty chair towards the Sheriff. His words were calculating and to the point.

"_If_ my daughter tried to kill her, she sure as hell had a good reason. I want to know what this person _did_ to Sofia that created this mess."

As he leaned back, his now upright figure cast the shadow of a man on a mission.

"If it is the last thing I do, I will expose this Sara Sidle to the world. She will not get away with her instigating my Sofia's death."

With that, he turned and almost rudely grasped his wife away from Andrew's gentleness, forcing her brusquely down the corridor.

The Sheriff glared at Andrew.

"Stay with them. Take them to the morgue, and then get them the _hell out of my building_!"

Andrew turned and raced after them. 

Speaking briefly with the couple, Andrew led them to a waiting area. Seeing that they were settled, albeit not entirely happy about being made to wait, Andrew hustled down another corridor.

This hallway led towards the bustling CSI lab, containing some worklabs, the AV lab, the breakroom, and Andrew's office.

-----------------------------------------------

Back at the hospital, Grissom found himself being prodded awake by the low tones of a conversation. His first thoughts returned to the last quiet conversation he had overheard while lying in a hospital bed.

_Oh, my lord…please don't let this have been a dream…Sara is alive…please, let Sara be alive…Sara!_

Forcing himself awake, he opened his eyes as he bolted himself upright.

The sight before him melted his heart.

There was his Sara, bruised and apparently having trouble disguising her pain.

He thought he'd break down in an emotional puddle. But she needed him to be strong for her.

_How I love this woman._

His sudden movements had distracted Brass from his conversation with an almost alert Sara.

"Look what the cat dragged in! 'Bout time you surfaced, cowboy! We were just talking about your lollygagging in that comfy bed!" Brass joked, clearly relieved that Gil looked better than when he was brought in.

Brass was staring at Grissom's form moving towards them, and chuckled softly as he realized Gil's concentration was fixed upon the other person in the room.

Clearing his throat loudly, he said aloud fully understanding that he would probably not get a response, "Can I go grab you a coffee, buddy?"

Gil now had gained Sara's full attention, their eyes locked as he moved closer.

In apparent response to Jim's query, there was no mistaking that his response was directed towards his love.

I AM athirst, but not for wine;  
The drink I long for is divine,  
Poured only from your eyes in mine. 

(Mathilde Blind)

Sara's mouth turned up into a tired smile but her eyes twinkled a bit brighter, he thought.

Gil sat on the side of the bed opposite Brass, still not having looked in his direction.

"How are you feeling, honey?" he cooed softly, visually caressing each bruise on her face.

"Like I spent too long in the sea," she answered cryptically, referring to the way he had grabbed her and taken her joyfully into the warm waters to celebrate their reunion on the beach of their Better Place.

The reference was not lost on him, and he smiled shyly at the thoughts that were now beginning to stir his libido.

Both men inched closer to her as Sara emitted a small gasp and hugged her side.

"SARA!" Gil voiced worriedly as he did a visual inventory of her body and the monitors around her bed.

"Sorry," she gasped, trying to hide her pain. "Just smarts a bit. Guess I moved a bit too quickly."

Both men glanced towards each other, both agreeing that she had not really moved at all.

They relaxed as she took a deep breath and gave them a small smile. "Really, I'm okay."

Gil intended to call for the nurse, but Sara's soft touch stopped him from depressing the button.

"Please, Gil. No more medicine. Not now. I need…I want to talk to you both for a while. Please."

He could deny her nothing.

Claiming her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed her palm. Gil felt better when he saw his action bring a soft smile to her eyes.

He adored her.

Sara looked to Brass.

"Jim, please tell me now. You promised."

Gil looked questioningly at Brass. "He promised you what, Sara?"

"To tell me what happened to me. Why I had surgery. Why I am in this new room."

She looked at Gil. "Why…why you are in a hospital bed…"

The sadness and worry in her eyes touched him deeply. No one …NO ONE… had ever cared for …no, LOVED him…the way that Sara did. 

He kissed her hand again.

"Sara, I'm fine. Your doctor was just concerned about …my lack of sleep…worrying about _you_, missy…" he answered lightly, hoping to dispel her fears.

It didn't work.

"Jim…you promised…" Sara directly her words to him while never taking her eyes off Grissom's.

She could always tell if he was lying to her. For one thing, he rarely lied to her in all the years she had known him. But if he wanted to spare her, and she could recall a few cases over the years where he had tried to conceal things from her, she had created a checklist of behaviors that would tip her off to his intentions.

First, she observed, there would be those tiny frown lines which would appear between his brows.

Then, as if he would catch himself betraying his lie with those lines, he would quickly raise his eyebrows as if to clear a slate.

Sara kept her eyes on Jim as she asked again, "Jim, why was Grissom on bed rest."

Gil was keeping his gaze on Sara, hoping to persuade her to believe he was alright. He hoped Brass would play along.

"Sara...he's fine…just as he said it went down," lied Brass, hoping she would believe this white lie this one time. He hated lying to her, as he had promised he would always be straight with her, no matter how much it hurt.

"See?" Gil laughed softly, reclaiming her palm for another kiss.

_There they are. Two frown lines._

Gil arched his eyebrows a bit as he smiled seductively.

_Busted!_

_But why are they lying to me?_

_I will have a chat with that older doctor when he comes on rounds._

_Be prepared, doc! _

_You won't get off _this_ easily._

For now, Sara pretended to accept the lie. She had other more burning questions that needed to be answered.

Taking her gaze away from Gil, she pinned her glare on Brass and insisted on the truth of what had happened to her.

Brass took a deep breath.

"Listen, sweetie, are you sure you are up for this?" he asked calmly, his heart racing at what he had to impart to them both.

"Jim…you promised…"

"Okay," he began but then thought of one more condition to the full disclosure he was about to make.

"Okay, Sara, but I even think these monitors are telling me you are not up for it, I am stopping. Period. Is that clear?" he said in his most fatherly tone.

That made Sara smile. She couldn't love this man more if he truly was her own father. She had never had anyone, before Gil, who worried about her. It felt…nice…to be…….._loved_…like that.

"Fine," she said.

Both men flinched. They hated when she said that, as it usually indicated she was anything _but_ fine.

So Brass glanced over the details, reminding her that this was only the story based on the evidence as it currently stood.

--"Ecklie had taken you from you hospital room."

--------------------------------------This disclosure made Gil furious. _Where were all of Ecklie's "well-trained" officers? Why had _I_ left Sara alone? This was all _my_ fault!_ However, Gil had to delay the self-flagellation as he needed to listen to the rest of the details.

--"Ecklie had hidden you in his car, and you all were found in the empty morgue garage behind the CSI building."

--------------------------------------This disclosure made Gil's pulse rate skyrocket. _He couldn't have done this without inside help! Who would want to hurt Sara this way? Why had _I_ left Sara alone? This was all _my_ fault!_

Gil clamped Sara's hand tighter in his. He was so intrigued in the details, and so remorseful about his role in the drama, that he failed to notice Sara had displayed little reaction to any of the story so far.

--"The Sheriff's men surrounded the scene, finding Sofia with Ecklie."

---------------------------------------_Sofia? Sure she was…jealous? ... of Sara…but…she wouldn't do anything stupid enough to _harm_ her…_

Jim took a breath. He could see the outrage and emotions filling Gil's face.

But it was Sara's blank expression that caused him the most worry.

--"Sofia…" he paused. Could he really say the words that described the horror he had just lived through?

"Jim…you promised," Sara spoke so softly he could barely hear her.

--"Sofia…put a gun to your head, Sara…she was taken down before she had a chance to pull the trigger."

Gil winced, dropping Sara's hand reflectively. He reached for it again, but Sara had now placed both her hands around the edge of her covers after pulling the warmth closer to her and cuddling the blanket to her chest in a protective measure, turning slightly away from Grissom's side.

--"Sofia had dropped the weapon and it discharged into your lap, Sara. That is why you were in surgery, to remove the bullet and repair the damage."

Both men now noticed that Sara was emotionally detaching herself from the news. They glanced at each other before her soft voice again sought the rest of the story.

"Ecklie?" she made herself force out the word.

Gil was shaking his head, but Brass turned to Sara and leaned in closer to place his hand on her shoulder, braking when he felt her attempt to move away from him.

He sighed. _Lord help me, this is not going well._

Giving her the space her body language was demanding, he concluded the details as he knew them.

--"Ecklie tried to stop Sofia, and was gunned down to prevent him from reaching your position with a firearm drawn."

At this, Sara closed her eyes.

_The facts as we know them._

_These are the facts as _I_ know them._

_Two people are dead because of me._

_Two people are no longer living…because of _me

_Ecklie is gone, and we never recovered that file._

_Someone will find it._

_Gil will be charged with a crime he didn't commit._

_All this time…for nothing._

_All the hurt, the worry, the abuse…all for nothing._

_Gil will be hurt…_because of me

_How can I look at him?_

_He thinks he knows about Ecklie._

_He guessed that Ecklie had threatened me._

_He doesn't know about the blackmail._

_  
He will_ hate_ me._

_He will hate me because he will go to jail _because of me

_BECAUSE OF ME!_

_I am so sorry, Gil._

_I can't let them hurt you anymore._

_If I am gone, maybe it will be better for you._

_If I leave, though, I know I will never make it without you._

_I wish _I _had died in that gun battle._

_It should be _me_ who is dead._

_I would be _better off_ dead._

YOU_ would be better off if I were dead._

_I don't know what to do now._

_I don't know what to do._

_I …can't think…_

_I need to get away from you._

_I'm sorry, Gil._

_I'm sorry, Gil._

"I'm sorry, Gil!" Sara whimpered aloud as she felt herself being shaken. Upon opening her eyes, she found herself face-to-face with worried blue ones.

"Sara? You don't have anything to be sorry for. It's over, sweetheart. They can't hurt you anymore," he pleaded.

Brass stood a bit more erect, worry seeping into his features as he watched her cling to her blanket more tightly, pulling it up protectively closer to her chin.

_It isn't over._

_  
It will never be over._

_I'm sorry, Gil._

_You will be better off without me._

"Please…leave me alone now…please…" she said dispassionately, her blank expression not reflecting the mental turmoil she was experiencing.

"Sara, no…I won't leave you…sweetheart….Sara, please…" begged Gil, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

"Please…leave me alone…" Sara said softly again, turning onto her side away from him.

"Look, Sara, I know how you must feel…" Brass began but was cut off by her glare.

"Please…leave me alone…_both _of you…" Sara said a bit louder this time. Her tone was becoming infused with her emotions and she didn't want either of these men whom she loved so dearly to see her fall apart.

"No, Sara...uh-uh…" Gil said loudly as he stood now, trying to get her to look at him, but finding her body steeled into its current position.

"GET OUT!" Sara snapped, hugging her blanket to herself and blinking back the tears caused by both her emotional struggle and the pain from the surgical wound.

"Sara…" Brass tried once more to reach for her, but found her retreating from his overture like all the abuse victims he had ever encountered as first on the scene. He knew when to back off.

Grissom, however, never learned to read body language in that manner.

"NO, Sara!" he barked loudly as the door to Sara's room burst open.

"WHAT is _happening_ in here?" queried the older doctor, his years of experience making him an expert in reading many forms of body language.

_Detective Brass is worried, Doctor Grissom is on the verge of another collapse, and Sara…good lord…_

"OUT!" shouted the doctor, piercing both Brass and Grissom with his stare.

"AND I MEAN _NOW_!"

It was all Brass could do to push Gil out the door. The CSI's back hit the wall opposite Sara's door, and he slumped to the ground.

Brass, cursing his knees, bent down and sat next to him.

Worried about his friend, Jim tried to placate him. "She just needs a minute, Gil. Let's give her some space. She's been through a hell of a lot these last few days."

He looked at the still silent Grissom who now had his face buried in his hands. "And…so have you , my friend, so have you."

They sat there in silence until the door opened almost ten minutes later.

Both men rose as one. The older doctor looked away before reclaiming their gaze.

"Sara…needs some quiet…so…_for now_…she has asked…and _I agree_…that _for now_ at least…"

The doctor sighed.

"Sara is to have _no_ visitors."

Before they could protest, he added pointedly, "Especially you, Dr. Grissom."

---------------------------------------------------------------

He was having one hell of a day.

The Sheriff found himself meeting with one of the techs he had planted in the lab. Having reclaimed the box still showing his imposed seals were still intact, he headed back to his office to decide on the final disposition of this "evidence".

He needed to see Sara.

He needed to tell her it was over, that Gil was safe.

He needed to make one more stop before returning to the safety of his office.

Box tucked securely under his arm, the Sheriff entered the AV lab. Finding it empty, he expertly pulled up the camera footage from the morgue garage from the view screen marked for this area. He zoomed in and viewed the progress of the crime scene investigation, wincing when he noticed the bloody wheelchair was still in its place on the stage of the double homicides.

He pressed the OPEN button and the small door leaned outward. 

Reaching in to remove the Hi-8 camcorder tape, the Sheriff froze.

_This tape…is brand new…_

Turning the tape over and over in his large hands, the implication was not lost, and sent him reeling.

_Someone has removed the only evidence tape of the shootings._

------------------------------------------------------------------

Having escorted Sofia's parents from the morgue to their car, Andrew returned to his office and locked the door.

_I have to think. I have to think. _

_Sofia is dead. SOFIA IS DEAD!_

He slumped into his chair. His anger was building.

_They shot her. In her own workplace. _

_I knew she hated the Princess, but I never thought she could do something like_ this.

Andrew pulled out the writing extension and removed the hidden file.

As he perused the memos and emails, a sick feeling came over him.

_This evidence…it's…forged…I haven't known them long, but…no way anyone who knew them would believe they wrote these. _

_The phrasing…the simple language…not at all like Grissom. He loves to throw big words around to impress people…he wouldn't be caught dead saying things like _"Gotta have ya, baby! Can't wait til I have some cream with a cherry on top".

Andrew shuddered.

_Now that's the kind of thing I could see coming from…_

He stopped. The file fell from his hands.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

_Ecklie. _

_Ecklie wrote these. _

_He was obsessed with getting the upper hand on Grissom, that was obvious to everyone, even the new guy on the block._

_And he was _really_ obsessed with Sara. Bent on hurting her with his rude comments and that funny glint in his eyes when she was in his sight…_

_She tried to stay away from him, but he would …stalk …her…_

Andrew was a well-trained CSI.

_These are Ecklie's files. _

_He hid them. _

_If they had been real, he would have been the first to go to the Sheriff with them and bring down Grissom and discredit Sara._

_Instead, he hid them._

Understanding dawned. Andrew fell back in his chair, ludicrous at what he had just uncovered.

_Ecklie was framing the Princess! That is why she put up with his abuse all these years._

_Wait! She didn't know where he was hiding _this_ file. So… what _else _was in that box?_

Andrew now had more questions than answers.

He stood and grabbed his jacket.

He was almost at the door before he remembered the file.

Andrew made little time of securing the incriminating evidence in its hiding place.

He was unsure now of his next move concerning _that_ evidence.

But he was _very_ clear on his next course of action.

He walked to the front desk and clocked himself out.

On the way to the car, he padded the area over his jacket's inside pocket.

Feeling the outline of a Hi-8 tape, he pulled his car door open strongly, jumping in behind the driver's wheel deftly.

Pulling out of the CSI parking lot, Andrew headed for home to add another piece to the puzzle of this muddled picture concerning the dead Sofia and Ecklie and their victim Sara Sidle.

-----------------------------------------------------

Gil was pacing in the visitor's waiting room.

He needed to see her. 

He needed to hold her.

Why was she doing this? 

Did she blame him for all that happened to her?

She must!

She must be blaming him!

He raked his hand through his hair, worried about her condition.

Brass was worried about how unglued Grissom was becoming.

"Gil, sit down. This isn't helping her…or you."

The words fell on deaf ears.

He tried again.

"Grissom! Sit down and relax. You look like you could use a bit more sleep."

That caught Gil's attention.

Of course.

He would rest and then he would see her.

He could hold her, she would never refuse him there.

Not back there where they had been so happy.

He loved her.

He needed to see her.

Brass was stunned when Grissom brushed past him and reclined his long form onto the comfort of the couch.

Stilling his breaths and exhaling slowly, Grissom found himself drifting off to sleep.

His last remembered thought was, "Please, Sara…don't send me away again…"


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: To all those who are so wonderful to support this story, I can only say sorry for the delay in the update…family and work responsibilities are really pressuring my schedule at this time of year (and I am sure most of you can empathize)…this chapter sets up what I believe may be the last two or three chapters of _this_ story…the events in these last few chapters set the stage for the third part of this trilogy…thanks for all who continue to review, and to those who support this story by reading…you continue to inspire me to write…hope it doesn't disappoint…you remain terrific!--Kathy

Gil's efforts had been rewarded.

At first glance, however, things seemed…different.

_He_ was different.

He immediately observed the changes in the air.

He noticed a stiff wind and dark clouds forming over the thicket behind him.

He spied her standing on the dock, her perfect silhouette basking in the warmth of the sunny skies and translucent blue waves cresting gently beneath her perch.

He reviewed their Better Place.

He realized things _around_ him were the only ones that mirrored the changes he felt _within_ him.

This place had always been a haven of joy, a place where they could really talk and express themselves openly.

As he now stood on the beach, Gil realized he was not particularly joy-filled or in the mood to express his love for Sara.

In fact, he was becoming…_angry_.

While this emotion was nothing new to him, it _was _remarkable…because he found that his ire was directed at…_Sara._

_She shut me out…rallied her doctor who refused to let me see her…_

that _isn't something you do when you love someone…_

_I gave her my heart, my pledge of love…_

_We made love here…_

_She said she would always love me…_

_I asked her to hold on to my love…_

_She doesn't really love me…_

_She thinks…_

He gulped back the incapacitating lump that had formed in his throat.

_She thinks she'd be better off alone…_

_But I…I know _I_ can't do this alone anymore…_

_She said she loved me…_

_She promised…_

_Now she knows I am to blame for everything that happened to her…_

_I have always been responsible for hurting her too much…_

_She'll never forgive me now…_

_I'm too late…_

_Too late…_

_She shut me out…_

_That isn't something you do...when you love someone…_

_She doesn't really love me…_

_Our declarations of love in this place…It was all a fantasy…_

_There is no happy ending…_

His insecurities fanned the flames of his anger, and for a brief moment he actually felt as if he could break something…hurt someone…

He was becoming irrational. His heart was breaking, just as he had worried would happen during all those years he had pushed her away.

But they _had_ found each other.

And now…she was pushing him away.

_Well…not without a damned good explanation, she isn't…_

That is how Gil found himself storming down the beach at breakneck speed, his emotions overtaking his logic.

Thunder clapped in the distance. The sound made Sara shiver and turn worriedly in its direction.

Storms had always unnerved her. Childhood memories surfaced of being locked outside with nowhere to go for cover during a violent electrical storm, while her parents engaged in a particularly savage episode.

Sara shivered at the sound…and then continued to tremble as she first noticed Gil, and then began reacting to the change in his demeanor as he raced towards her.

She was standing on the far edge of the dock. Even if she ran, he would reach the opposite edge of the weathered wood before she could escape.

Sara felt trapped.

_How can I make him understand? _

_He can't be with me now._

_He will be hurt…because of _me_…how do I live with that…_

_He will hate me…if not now, then in the near future…_

One look at his approaching form made her realize the "near future" may just have arrived.

_I can't protect him anymore…_

_I don't know what to do…_

_God, he looks so…angry…_

"Gil," she choked out, shivering under his scrutiny.

By now, she was standing on the edge of the deck and Grissom was blocking her retreat from the dock, planting his feet firmly in the warm sand of the beachfront.

The dark clouds which had loomed behind him were becoming increasingly menacing.

"So…you remember the name…" he spoke in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It's nice to see you again, _Miss Sidle_," he hissed as he stepped ominously in her direction.

Sara had always known Gil Grissom to be a soft spoken man, a refuge for her from the darkness of her realities.

Standing here before him, Sara was actually afraid of him.

"Gil, I want you to understand-" she began, but was cut off by his loud, aggravated intonation.

"Oh, I think I understand you pretty well-" he bellowed, stepping forward suddenly.

"You allow me to pour my heart out to you, declare my undying love for you, and then…and then-" his hurt by her abandonment causing him to choke on the end of his verbal tirade, but the anger was transforming his usually loving gaze into a threatening stare.

"Gil, please," Sara pleaded, now totally unnerved by the sound of the approaching thunder and the fire in his eyes as he continued to come closer to her.

She turned away suddenly, focusing on the seabirds that were frolicking far offshore in the beauty of the bay. This was their Better Place. Their refuge.

Grissom was angry with her for shutting him out.

Had she been wrong?

Had she once again spoiled the chance they had for happiness?

Whenever they were here, together, there was sunshine and butterflies.

Now…there was just the impending storm, signaling the destruction of the beauty of their hideaway – and of their relationship.

She wished she could tell him everything.

But until the documents surfaced, Sara was determined to take it on the chin and keep the possibility of an impending disclosure to herself.

Perhaps there _would_ be time to locate the missing false evidence among Ecklie's personal effects.

Right now, it was the only hope of salvaging their relationship, and his _love_ for her.

She was going to need to talk to the Sheriff. _Today_.

But first, she needed to get Gil to calm down and talk to her.

However, in turning back in his direction, she found herself face-to-face with an unrecognizable Grissom.

His eyes belied the fury he felt at being unceremoniously pushed away first by her, then by the hospital staff.

She thought his body screamed of his anger to such a degree that he might actually strike her, but as he moved towards her, something more upsetting happened.

Gil moved to grab Sara by the shoulders, intent on shaking some sense into her – literally.

But when he moved forward, they both blinked and then stared into the depths of each other's eyes.

As the wind behind him was swirling the sand into little tornadoes of dust, the sky was menacing, the thunder clapped, Gil Grissom found himself reaching out but being unable to touch her.

Oh, his hands moved forward and were grasping at the air… but the scene before them reminded him of those hokey sci-fi movies he had loved as a kid.

His hands were being held at bay by some type of 3-D air…almost as if a heavy duty plastic wrap was creating a barrier between his tumultuous side of the beach and Sara's tranquil atmosphere on her side of the dock.

When he had first reached out to her, he was fuming and she was afraid.

Now, the two scientists began experimenting on opposite sides of the barrier to find a way to break down the obstruction.

Her eyes told the story of her need for him, and her body language related the rising hysteria at not being able to connect with him, to help him understand why she had to distance herself for a while.

"Gil!" Sara cried, trying to reach him but finding her attempts also thwarted in the thickness of the air separating them.

Grissom continued to reach high and low, trying to find his way to her.

His anger was now replaced something more primal.

He needed to find a way to touch her.

She was terrified and he was unable to help her, unable to hold her so she wouldn't be afraid.

Gil was overwhelmed with the need to keep her in his embrace, to reassure her of his love…to beg her forgiveness for his outburst…to try to help her understand the hurt her banishment had caused him.

"Sara, please…I…I'm sorry…I..I..I just needed to be with you…" he stammered, not knowing fully if he was trying to calm her or himself.

"I was angry when you sent me away…kept me away….honey, I love you…Sara!...SARA!"

The storm behind him was intensifying and Gil found himself yelling her name, professing his love, continuing his attempts to reach her.

The winds around him were swirling out of control, the storm-tossed sand was whipping at him as he stepped back to shield his face from the elements.

Sara watched in horror at the scene which threatened his well-being, while she stood in the safety of the sun-warmed, calm waters. She found herself becoming hoarse with her attempts to gain his attention.

She blinked and tried to hammer away at the barrier that kept them apart as she realized she could no longer see him on the other side.

Repeatedly, she screamed his name as the roar of the thunderstorm overcame her hearing.

Back at the hospital, Sara was alone in her room under the effects of the light sedatives the older doctor had prescribed to calm her after Gil was chased out.

Unable to awaken from her drug-induced rest, Sara was screaming for him as she thrashed around her hospital bed.

"GIL! GRISSOM! SOMEBODY! HELP HIM!"

She was crying, her head moving left then right on her thin pillow.

"GIL! I NEED YOU! GIL!" she repeated loudly, not sure exactly where she was at the moment.

Meanwhile, down the hall in the waiting room, Brass had been standing at the open doorway glancing from a sleeping Grissom tossing on the couch to Sara's closed door at the end of the long, quiet corridor.

He was the first to notice Grissom becoming more agitated, but his movements towards his friend were stopped suddenly by the sound of Sara's screaming.

Brass was just about to call over to him when Gil's eyes sprung open and he was almost on his feet before his first blink.

They raced towards Sara's room, Brass angry that they were the only responders to her desperate call for help.

_Great staff in this place…_

Gil was at her side in a heartbeat.

"Sara…honey…sweetheart…I love you…wake up now…it's okay…I'm okay…it's all over…" he spoke over her cries.

She was not responding.

"Sara," Gil started again, pinning her hands to the bed as he moved close enough to let her feel his breath on her cheek.

"Sara…I can touch you now…I can feel you…I'm okay now…please, honey…please, wake up."

Her movements slowed and she had stopped screaming, but her tears continued to streak down her face in torrents.

"Gil…please…Gil…I…need you...please…don't go…"she pleaded softly while her eyes remained closed.

"Sara…I love you…I need you, too…please, wake up sweetheart…Sara, please…"

Sara was still unable to open her eyes, but Grissom felt he was breaking through, that she was hearing him.

_What can I say, to prove to her I'm okay?_

His mind racing, he let his heart dictate the message that had won her over their first night they returned from their Better Place:

"Now I know what love is."

He released her hands which remained docile at her sides.

He soothed her face and smoothed her hair away from her tear stained cheeks.

He spoke again, willing all the love in his heart to be displayed in his pronouncement:

"Now I know what love is."

He placed a small kiss on her eyes, moving to her cheeks, pecking softly at her mouth. He smiled in spite of himself…his Sara was so beautiful:

"Now I know what love is."

He took her long fingers to his lips, and ran a comforting hand up and down her arm as he whispered in her ear, feeling as if his heart would burst for love of this wisp of a woman:

"Now I know what love is."

She quieted.

He took a calming breath and sat upright, remaining seated on the side of her bed.

He clasped her hands softly within his formidable grip.

Brass continued to watch the entire exchange from the doorway, marveling at what he had just seen transpire between the two.

There was silence in the room as Grissom now continued his feather light contact with Sara's arms, while occasionally leaning forward to whisper his chosen declaration in her ear.

Sara was beginning to stir, signs that the effects of the sedative were wearing off.

For Gil, that couldn't be fast enough.

He needed to hold her, explain what he had been feeling, ask for her forgiveness.

But before Sara became fully awake, the silence in the room was shattered by the sound of a familiar voice in the doorway inquiring,

"May I come in?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at Andrew's apartment, he shut off the playback machine.

He swiped his face with his open hand.

_Sofia…she really did this._

_She really would have killed the Princess._

_Why? Over _Grissom

_I know she had the hots for the guy._

_I can't believe that she would go to _these_ lengths._

_In the past, she had prided herself at winding her way into a situation, taking credit for her target's work, climbing the ladder over their back, maybe even eventually replacing them completely._

_But this…Sofia was really over the edge this time._

Andrew leaned back in his chair. He thought about the documents hidden in his desk.

_Was Sofia involved in setting up Grissom and Sidle with those phony emails?_

_Just how involved _was _she with Ecklie?_

_Ecklie…by all accounts, the tape showed that he would have made a move, maybe even killed Sofia, to protect the Princess._

_How had this gotten so out of control?_

Andrew now had another dilemma.

What to do about Sofia's parents.

Her father was going to insist on seeing the tape.

Would that make a difference in his vendetta against the object of Andrew's lust?

_Mmm…and then there _is_ the matter of the Princess…_

Andrew felt himself in the middle…as he also felt himself getting aroused at the thought of Sara.

He knew Sofia's father – an influential man in his own right – was expecting Andrew to help him get to the bottom of the tragedy…as well as to vindicate daddy's Sofia from her involvement in the tragedy.

He also knew that if the Sheriff found him with _that_ file, his career at LVPD – or anywhere in law enforcement – was over.

He shuddered. _I could possibly be implicated as Ecklie's accomplice!_

Andrew stared at the photo of Sofia and him taken years ago, in happier times.

_Sofia, sweetheart…what have you gotten me into?_

For a long time, Andrew mulled over his options. He needed to do the right thing – for himself.

_Hey, if I don't look out for number one…who will?_

Another half hour sped by.

Suddenly, Andrew's face took on a look of resolve.

He grabbed his coat, and the stolen tape, and headed for the door.

Before he got there, he whipped out his cell phone and speed dialed a number.

When the party answered, he coolly intoned,

"Mr. Curtis. I may have found something for you, sir…"


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: Thanks for your continued support of this story. To those who took the time, your reviews are a great encouragement. Please remember this story is winding down within the next few chapters, leading to the final story in the trilogy. I promise to end on a "fluffy" note, but not all situations will be resolved in this story. You remain terrific! -Kathy

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brass turned from his perch at the open doorway to Sara's hospital room.

He found himself face to face with the Sheriff.

As no one had answered his initial query, the Sheriff intoned a bit louder, "May I come in now?"

Brass opened his mouth to speak but Grissom cut him short, tersely stating, "She's resting…now is not a good time…"

His jaw was clenched and he stubbornly kept his eyes averted from the Sheriff's, not removing his gaze from Sara's awakening form.

His thoughts were a jumble of anxiety and desire.

_Go away._

_I need time to be with my Sara._

_I need to take her in my arms, show her that she means the world to me._

_I want you to go away._

_I want everyone to just go away._

_I want to go back to our Better Place._

_Just Sara and me…just us…together…_

_I don't want to share her…she's mine…_

That thought seemed to relax him. Grissom never took his eyes off her.

This did not go unnoticed by the Sheriff who jockeyed his combination locked briefcase into the grip of this other hand.

"I need to speak to Sara as soon as possible."

"Information on the case?" Brass asked, hoping to understand the undercurrent of urgency in the Sheriff's request.

The Sheriff demurred before raising himself to "official" posture and stating succinctly, "I need to speak to Sara as soon as possible."

This caused Brass' eyebrows to shoot up, but he kept his mouth closed.

Gil, however, did not play follow the leader on that body posture.

"No."

The Sheriff blinked. Did Grissom really just refuse his request for a private conference with Sara?

"Grissom –"

"NO!"

This time, Gil stood, placing his full body between Sara's bed and the Sheriff.

"She needs rest. Not company."

"Grissom, this is official business. I have a right to be here. And I AM going to stay and talk with her," the Sheriff added in an even tone that demonstrated for all concerned that he possessed a great amount of self-control.

"I _said,_ NO!" Grissom voiced a louder tone, moving towards the Sheriff threateningly.

Brass jumped into the fray, glaring at Grissom and blocking his attempt to confront the Sheriff.

"Gil, calm down! Sheriff –" he added when he got the angered Sheriff's attention, "Sara just had quite a scare…are you sure this can't wait a day or two?" he asked good-naturedly.

"NO!"

It was the Sheriff's turn to bark and glare.

This impasse would have continued if a shallow, drug-induced sigh had not emerged from the small figure sprawled on the hospital bed.

"Gil-"

He was at her side in a flash.

"Shh…sweetheart. Don't talk now. Just rest. Everyone was just leaving-"he said, as he turned to glare at the two in the doorway.

"Gil-" Sara started, then winced from the pain of moving her incision trying to sit up.

"Sara, please honey…just lay still…it must be time for your pain medication…let me ring the doctor…" Gil said, his heart racing at seeing her in pain.

"No, please…no more medicine…I need…" she began, but collapsed back onto her bed under the weight of the drug-induced haze.

"Honey…what is it?...what do you need?" Grissom spoke slowly, but anxiously.

_Please…let it be me…say you need only _me

"I need…to speak to the Sheriff…alone…" she forced out, before she collapsed back again into the soft haven of her thin hospital pillow.

"Sara…" Gil almost whined, but one look in her eyes and he realized if it was that important to her, he could not refuse.

"I'd like to stay," Gil began, but stopped abruptly when Sara looked at him with a mixture of love and anxiety.

She reached for his hand.

"No…._please_…for me?"

He could refuse her nothing.

Gil rose dejectedly from her bedside, sliding his hand from hers. He had almost turned completely away when her soft grip encased the tips of his fingers.

"I love you, Gil," Sara whispered, more from lack of energy than for a need to keep her commitment private.

"I'll be right outside, if you need _anything_…" Gil spoke softly before bending down to kiss her lightly on the lips. Brass noted the display of affection, just another surprise from his generally unemotional friend.

"I love you, Sara," Gil whispered into her hair before he pulled away.

It made him feel better to know she had smiled at that. He moved next to the Sheriff before issuing a terse command,

"Don't do _anything_ to upset her."

With that, the door closed behind an anxious Grissom and a concerned Brass. Their eyes did not meet, but both men shared a single thought:

_What the hell was going on here?_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

A large hand moved the switch on the video camera to OFF.

Three pairs of eyes were still locked on the now blank screen.

"Well," Atty. Moufette cleared his throat, "in all honesty, Mr. Curtis, I feel I must tell you that the county certainly has overwhelming evidence to support its case against your daughter."

This, of course, was something Logan Curtis did not want to hear.

"This Sara Sidle did…_something_…to make Sofia act in this manner. You both saw…you both saw…" the anger permeated his tone and actions.

Neither Andrew nor Atty. Moufette knew quite what to do next.

"Well," the attorney started again, "IF, and I am telling you it is only a small IF, Sofia felt herself somehow endangered by Ms. Sidle, whose relationship with Mr. Ecklie remains unclear at this time, there is always a chance she could have felt herself in a self-defensive situation."

Mr. Curtis sat up straighter, intent on hanging onto this lifeline tossed out by his lawyer.

"Yes…Sidle could easily have been threatening Sofia, my daughter simply defending herself, yes…" he smiled, the idea of Sara's actions as a catalyst for Sofia to cross the line becoming a most welcomed thought.

"The entire Elite Force was witness to her actions-" Andrew interrupted as he sat at the edge of his padded leather captain's chair.

"They didn't let her speak…you saw that…they cut off her every chance to explain…she had no choice…yes…she was forced into action…" Mr. Curtis continued to no one in particular. This was a thin straw but he was grasping at it fiercely.

"And then…then they silenced that Ecklie before he could come to her aid…you saw it…why did they kill Ecklie, if it wasn't because he was going to expose what that woman was doing to Sofia?" Logan continued, a bit too excitable for Andrew's comfort.

He glared at his attorney, "I want her on trial. I want her exposed for what she did to my Sofia," he stated heatedly, slamming his fist on the large desk for emphasis.

"One step at a time," smiled his attorney calmly. "Perhaps, a coroner's inquest…or a request for a grand jury to hear both sides…I think we could raise a palpable concern about a cover-up by LVPD's finest…" he smirked in a way that made Andrew a bit anxious about his increasing level of involvement.

"I – I will need to return the tape before someone notices it is gone," Andrew stood suddenly, garnering an inquisitive look from the attorney, and none at all from the grieving parent.

"Yes, that's fine Andrew. I am sure Mr. Curtis is most grateful for your assistance in procuring that for us," Atty. Moufette responded with a sturdy handshake after he handed over the tape of the garage shooting.

When he reached for the tape, the attorney tightened his grip on Andrew's hand.

"I'm sure we can count on you if any additional information is required," the lawyer intoned menacingly.  
"Mr. Curtis can be a very generous benefactor," he spoke softly as he released Andrew's hand.

With that, Andrew bid them goodbye and found himself on his way back to the lab.

On the elevator, Andrew pulled out the tape and a handkerchief from his pocket. He rubbed away the light oils that housed the prints of all who had touched this tape. Confident there was no way to gather a usable print, Andrew placed it back into a plastic baggie and headed towards the A/V lab.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Sheriff had rested his attaché case on the edge of Sara's bed.

With a flourish, he pulled out the entire file that had been the object of their intensive search these many years.

Laying the aged manila envelope across her midsection, the Sheriff just sat back and smiled.

"Is this…?" Sara whispered, almost afraid that Gil could overhear this very important conversation from his spot in the hallway.

The Sheriff beamed. Sara's hands lay unmoving on top of the file.

"It's over."

Those words made the hope in Sara's heart stir, bringing a smile to her tired countenance.

"It's over," she whispered.

Her hands flew to her face with such a flurry of emotion, the Sheriff wondered for a moment about depressing the call button.

However, this evidence needed to be locked up first.

"Sara," he began, but he realized how emotional this must be for Sara considering all that she had endured to protect Grissom these many years.

She wiped at her eyes, and started to look through the evidence. Her goal was not to read what Ecklie had written, but to take a quiet inventory of what he had plotted to use against the man who had stolen her heart.

When she had emptied the envelope, her face paled. Sara first placed her hand in again, followed by a more frantic level of investigating the evidence that had been enclosed in that envelope.

"Sara?" the Sheriff asked worriedly, surprised at her reaction.

"It…It isn't all here," Sara sighed, finally slumping back onto her pillow in tears.

"What?" the Sheriff asked quickly, sitting straighter to survey the information spread out across Sara's bedding.

"_What_ is missing?…please…help me understand"

Trying to regain some composure, Sara went on to explain that the evidence dealing with the trumped up murder charge seemed to be all here, but there was more.

"Remember, he told me he had emails incriminating Gil for having a previous relationship with me…an…intimate relationship…"

The Sheriff rose to his feet.

_Yes, I do remember now. Why wasn't _that_ material here also? Walking in on Andrew that morning-" the Sheriff stared again into an ambiguous space in a faroff galaxy._

_Andrew._

_That young man has some explaining to do._

The Sheriff scooped up the evidence and started to move towards placing the evidence in his briefcase, all the while speaking in low tones to Sara.

"Don't you worry about a thing but getting better, you hear me Sara? Rest. You need it. I will find out what happened to that file of emails, and then get back to you."

He leaned forward on his forearms to look face to face into her worried eyes before leaving.

"This was the most incriminating of the evidence. I am going back to destroy every bit of this evidence, find the rest of those emails and rid us of them also.

I promise I'll back as soon as I knew anything."

He smiled at Sara, before taking her small hand within his big ones.

"Please leave the rest to me, Sara. You have done your part, over 110 of your part. You are safe here, Sara," the Sheriff said, matching his uncharacteristic display of affection with the gentle caress of his softened tone.

Sara smiled weakly and nodded slowly, her eyelids returning to their closed position.

The Sheriff stood and surveyed her with concern.

_I promise you I will find them if it takes my entire life, Sara._

_Please, heal quickly, Sara. There is still much left to be talked about…_

With that, he hoisted his briefcase off the bedding in a fluid motion and stepped towards the brighter light of the hallway staircase.

The Sheriff had been in with Sara for quite a while.

This did nothing to appease Grissom's mood.

Brass had been concerned with his friend, until the activity in the hallway began to gain more of his attention.

Casually leaning on another doorpost of the waiting room, Brass had been standing with his badge blazing in the reflection of hot Nevada sun through the large bay windows.

He noticed a non-descript gentleman in his mid-20's sauntering down the hallway, looking at each room number.

When he reached Sara's door, he paused. Noticing the closed door did not have DO NOT ENTER signs, the man looked surreptitiously up and down the hallway.

He looked as if he was deciding whether to enter the room.

Not recognizing him, Brass was already moving towards him when the Sheriff came out of Sara's room.

This movement caused the younger man to turn and exit quickly down the enclosed stairwell to his left, the one with access to all levels of the parking garage.

Brass was about to follow when Grissom charged up the hallway and brushed by both men in his haste to return to Sara's bedside.

Attempting to keep an eye on Gil and smooth things over with his own boss, Brass became focused on many things in the moment.

The stranger was not among those things.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seated in the back of his dark colored Tahoe, the young man slammed the door angrily and hit speed dial on his cell.

"I was unable to get close enough to her. I'll have to wait until she's alone to try again."

There was a prolonged, aggravated sigh emitted from the other end of the phone.

"I want this done TODAY! Don't come back here until this is done, understood?"

The dial tone signaled the end of the call.

The young man sat back in the comfort of his vehicle and waited for another chance to get close to Sara Sidle.


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: Thanks for your patience in waiting for this update. Work is intense, so I wasn't home for a few nights. I will try to update as soon as possible next week. Thanks to all who are supporting this story by reading, and a special thanks to my many loyal reviewers. You remain great! --Kathy

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Gil Grissom charged into Sara's hospital room with such force that her closed eyes flew open.

The previous calm ending the Sheriff's visit was now bombarded with sensory impact: the sound of her door flying open, the rush of cool hallway air, the rustle of cotton slacks in hasty motion, the sound of her name muttered in worry…

Her dozing demeanor was transformed into a shocked terror, not knowing exactly where she was at the moment.

She felt like she had awakened _into_ a nightmare.

Sara tried to focus her eyes on her intruder, all the while donning a defensive posture.

From behind her arms that were raised protectively over her face, she sucked in her breath forcefully.

She attempted to crawl higher onto her pillows to escape the impending threat, and then emitted a quasi-scream, "Please, NO!"

Her sudden movements caused a blinding pain to erupt from the site of her surgical incisions.

Sara's hands immediately moved to ward off the pain, as her legs scrunched upwards almost meeting her chest.

Her usually unflappable demeanor was now gone, tears cascading down her tormented face.

As Gil finally arrived at her bedside, he was reaching for the call button. Brass and the Sheriff, alerted by Sara's cry, had abandoned their position outside the door and now stood horrified at the sight of Sara in so much pain.

Grissom had seated himself on the edge of the bed. He began making soothing circles on her back, reassuring her that she was indeed safe and that he loved her deeply.

Brass continued to be in awe of their connection, and Grissom's ease at knowing just the right words to comfort Sara.

The Sheriff stood immobile, taking in the scene. His expression was …unreadable.

Within seconds, a nurse appeared at the door. She scanned the faces in the room, settling her eyes on Sara.

With an exaggerated sigh, she turned heel and rushed from the room. The next minute the door flew open again and two sets of male eyes squared off with one angry pair of eyes.

The older doctor took a second to intone, "What the hell is going on in here?" before turning his attention to Sara.

Moving quickly, he circled the hospital bed and took Sara's hand, checking her pulse.

Glaring at Gil, the older doctor fumed, "Dr. Grissom, I thought I made it VERY clear to you that Sara needed rest…and that you were not to enter this room until further notice."

Before Gil had a chance to respond, the physician rolled Sara onto her back while forcing her legs flat. This action happened so quickly, Gil almost found himself deposited on the floor.

"Sara?" the doctor intoned more gently.

When her tears continued but her response was not forthcoming, the doctor pressed the call button and then returned his attention to the men in the room.

"OUT!" and after giving them a bit of time to ingest that information, "NOW!"

Brass and the Sheriff hightailed it out of the room in a second. When the door closed behind them they turned towards Gil…only to find he was not there.

"Dr. Grissom –"

"No!"

A slight staring match ensued.

"I left her alone, as _you_ demanded, and look what happened! _NO_!" Gil repeated, and took hold of her other hand, effectively shutting down any future attempts to address this matter.

The doctor thought about calling security, but he had to shelve those ideas as Sara's condition was becoming more pain filled.

"Sara? What happened, dear?" the older man spoke softly, more than a bit unnerved by the adrenaline rush of first seeing Sara doubled over in pain.

When she couldn't speak, Gil offered, "She was asleep when I came in – I might have jarred her awake."

If looks could kill, Grissom's friends would have been fighting over who penned the obituary.

Ignoring Gil for the moment, the older doctor moved the covers to inspect her stitches. A steady stream of blood was oozing from a large section of open wound.

The doctor applied pressure using some of the large sterile strips in the wound changing kit at Sara's bedside. He secured them firmly with tape and was satisfied that his stopgap measure would hold for a bit.

He sighed.

"Sara?" This time she managed to look at him, the agony emitting from her brown eyes causing a momentary crinkle of his eyebrow before he donned the mask of official impassivity.

"Sara, some of your stitching has ripped open, most likely from your sudden movement." A hasty glare in Grissom's direction went unnoticed as the CSI was intent only on Sara's face now wracked with pain.

"I am going to have to send you back to the OR for some restitching," he said but was stopped from going further as she was already shaking her head violently.

"No…no more anesthesia…no more…please…" she gasped, turning again onto her side.

Sara hated the lingering feeling of twilight sleep that inevitable happened when she was put under. She always felt so out of control.

She always needed to _be_ in control, so others would not have control over her, as in her past…

The older man had become very permissive in Sara's care, never wanting to enforce his first choices in her care when he could easily give in to her choice of less impressive measures.

Not this time.

"Sara…no choice…you will only be out for about a half hour….this needs to be done…the risk of infection is too great…"

When she began to protest again, Gil interrupted, "Sara…please, honey….just do what they want…whatever they say…please….the sooner they fix this, the sooner we can get home."

_We._

_Home_.

The thought relaxed Sara a bit.

The affect of Gil's words was not lost on older man.

His gaze went from Gil's anxious eyes to Sara's loving gaze.

_Yes, there is chemistry here. A natural bond – subtle, strong, caring. _

_Sara seemed to feed off his strength right at this moment..._

The change in his tone was lost on Grissom who was right now worried about the fact that Sara would be under sedation for the second time in twenty-four hours.

"Dr. Grissom…you can follow with Sara until we get to the OR waiting room. I will send someone to notify you when Sara is out of surgery. "

He seemed to waver a bit before adding, "…and you will be escorted to Sara's area in the recovery room.

Their eyes locked in truce before the nurse's reentry.

Ordering a sedative to be applied to her IV line, the doctor left to make the surgical arrangements.

The doctor dealt with Brass and the Sheriff, who were alternately happy for the opportunity to end Sara's pain, while worried about the additional surgery. The older man escorted them to the surgical waiting room.

Gil and Sara were alone at last.

The slow-acting sedative was taking the edge off the pain without making Sara too sleepy.

Gil bowed his head before reaching out and moving one hand slowly through her curls while grasping the other tightly.

Had she been able to look into his eyes, she would have seen the depths of his remorse.

"Sara…I'm so sorry…so sorry…I…I did this…I hurt you…again…" he began but realized he was too emotional to continue.

"Gil…it _wasn't_ your fault…I was just startled and I shouldn't have-"

"DON"T _DO_ THAT!" Gil snapped at her, causing her to stop speaking and making her lower lip

tremble.

Gil immediately recouped and squeezed her hand more tightly.

"Sara," he began again in a softer tone, "Don't! The blame _is_ mine. Stop always blaming yourself. Stop letting me off the hook so easily."

Having had time to take effect, the sedative felt wonderful, numbing the pain and reducing Sara's inhibitions.

"Gil-_bert_," she said a bit too playfully, causing Grissom to scrunch his brows in confusion and examine her eyes a bit more closely.

"I _finally_ reeled you in…why would I want to let you _off the hook_ so easily?" Sara laughed at her own little joke that in this moment was very funny in her own little world.

"Sara," Gil started, unsure of where this conversation was heading.

"Aw, Gil-_bert_! I _never_ thought I'd have a chance in the world of catching such a Big Fish as you," she chuckled, "and," she whispered conspiratorially causing him to lean forward into her space, "you definitely are a BIG fish!"

Grissom blushed painfully as Sara slightly wiggled her eyebrows and then broke into a soft fit of laughter.

"_Sara_!-" Gil began again, only to be interrupted a second time.

"Gil," she whispered, causing him to inwardly sigh before closing in again to hear her quiet words, "I just want you to know that before I met you I never really _liked_ to..."go fishing"…you know?..."

Sara stopped, at first giving a slight chortle.

Gil noticed that she had stopped speaking and was now getting a faraway, melancholy look in her eyes.

_She's doing that again. _

_Remembering. _

_She never told me the entire story, but it doesn't take an investigator to put two-and-two together. _

_How can I protect her from the horrors of her past? _

_Hell, I can't even protect her from the horrors of her life _today_…._

He placed a hand on her head now, stroking soothingly, willing her to close her eyes and rest.

But Sara had become focused on the topic.

"He would always come at night-" she hissed with a turn of her head that was slightly less refined than usual.

"Sara, no honey –"

"He was always so strong-" she sneered with a dry mouth.

"Sara, stop honey, please!"

"I _tried_ to stop him-" she stated plaintively, her blurred vision trying to focus on Gil's worried expression, begging him to believe her.

"Sara, ENOUGH!" Gil bellowed. With his heart hammering away at the implications of her drugged admissions, Grissom reclined onto the side of her bed and swept her carefully into the warmth and security of his embrace.

"Sara, he won't hurt you again. _No one_ will hurt you again. You are _safe_ – with _me_."

Sara nuzzled her head sleepily into the comforting niche made by his neck and shoulder.

"You promise?" she said in a hushed, sleepy tone.

Gil smiled. How he loved this woman.

"I promise, my darling Sara. I promise," he smiled, then hugged her more securely.

"Emerson said: Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely."

He moved to see Sara's uneven smile upturned towards him. She was having a bit of trouble focusing on his face, but his words had settled deep inside her heart. She sighed.

"Sara, tomorrow is OUR new day.

When you finish getting your stitches repaired, I will be _right there_ with you in the recovery room.

I will wait until you are sent to your own room, and I will be _right there_ with you.

And then tomorrow –"

He kissed her lightly on the lips and the edge of her nose before continuing,

"And then tomorrow I will be _right there_. Then, we will begin _our_ new day well and serenely…together…_forever_."

So they sat there contentedly with Gil propping Sara into a semi-sitting position, perched on his chest while they waited in happy silence for the gurney to transport her to the OR.

Gil was so intent on gazing into her eyes that at first he failed to recognize the sound of the door opening.

"Sara Sidle?"

Both Gil and Sara were startled by the unfamiliar voice.

Though still affected by the sedative, Sara joined Gil in his hasty evaluation of this person.

Their trained minds worked as one, a skill honed after many years of working side by side in the field.

_Young man, mid-20's, fairly affable manner._

_Obviously _not_ a hospital employee._

_No visible weapon. Probably not a threat._

_So what would he want with Sara? _

_And how _did_ he know her name?_

The stranger entered the room leaving the door to close behind him.

"Sara Sidle?" he asked again without taking his eyes off hers for one moment.

"Can I help you?" Grissom asked in a slightly irritated tone.

When his question was met with silence, Gil made to move but the man merely inched closer to the bed.

"Are you Sara Sidle?" he questioned a third time, his eyes intent on Sara.

He was not noticing Grissom removing Sara from his grasp as he made to put a physical barrier between Sara and the intruder.

"I _am_ Sara," she replied weakly, the effect of the sedative taking almost full effect.

However, she did not remove her gaze from the young man.

Before Grissom could cause interference, the man was reaching into the inside pocket of his casual blazer and pulling out a long, white, envelope with an official seal.

He lay the envelope on the hospital blanket over her stilled legs.

"Sara Sidle, you've been served."

With that the young man turned on his heels and sauntered out the door and down the corridor, leaving a stunned Grissom and a confused Sara to stare at the untouched envelope on her bed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at the lab, Andrew had made his way down the hallway intent on reaching his office without incident.

He passed by small groups of lab techs hunched over microscopes, processing DNA from newly-recovered evidence, intently listening and shaking their heads in assent – apparently getting new assignments from their superiors.

Andrew entered his space and locked the door. He raced to his desk and dislodged the envelope from its hiding spot.

_There's only one way I can save myself from being caught in the middle of this mess that Sofia created…_

Andrew found himself reviewing one or two of the emails before returning the file to its original position in the aging manila folder. He was now very aware of the power uncovering this file could cause.

He bounded towards the door, then replaced his harried expression with a mask of indifference. Silently, he turned the knob and stepped out into the mainstream of the lab.

Andrew had taken a few steps past the A/V lab when he found he had been joined by two traveling companions.

He recognized the two lab techs from his work in the evidence lab, and from passing them in the corridor leading towards the Sheriff's office.

"Hey, Andrew – what you got there?" "Hey, Andrew – long time, no see…what's in the file?"


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: Too many work and family priorities leave me little time for writing these last few weeks. Sorry this update took so long. Also, a belated Happy Birthday to my most faithful reviewer, jenstog! As I mentioned on an earlier post, this story is close to the end. I expect that there is only one more chapter left, with the storyline wrapping up in the third part of the trilogy. Thanks to all those who have supported this story by reading, and especially to those who took time to review. You are all terrific! I hope to have the final chapter up in the next few days. Thanks for the encouragement you have given me to tell their story…-Kathy

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Andrew shrugged off the attention of the two lab techs. He clutched the file closer to his agitated form, quickening his pace just a bit. The lab techs matched his acceleration, looking like mobile book ends as they kept pace with him despite Andrew's concerted effort to lose them.

Abruptly, Andrew halted his forward movement, causing the two to temporarily assume the lead in this spirited queue.

"Listen, you two – get back to work! I have some business with the Sheriff and I don't need a bodyguard to escort me there!"

Before he could continue his rant, a voice from up ahead shocked him into silence.

"I'll be the judge of _that_, Andrew…"

The two lab techs were smirking at the stunned expression on Andrew's face. With a sharp inclination of his head, the Sheriff silently remanded Andrew into his custody. The techs understood the Sheriff would take it from here.

Once alone, Andrew found the Sheriff at his side, forcibly gripping his elbow and moving them forward into the corridor towards the Sheriff's office.

Having escorted Andrew brusquely to a padded leather captain's chair, the Sheriff now stood within a foot of his suspect.

Glaring down officially at the perplexed CSI, the Sheriff donned an intimidating posture as he intoned sharply, "Only the truth will save you now, Andrew."

The Sheriff's statement made him wheeze.

"Sir, if you will only let me explain…"

The Sheriff crossed his arms as if to remind him of the consequences for lying.

Andrew was mired in his own worries.

_How much does he really understand about all this?_

_Did Sofia take the Sheriff into her confidence?_

_And was Sofia working with Ecklie, or was she an unfortunate bystander mistakenly pulled into the fray to take the heat off Ecklie?_

_That tape actually created more questions than it answered._

Realizing only a full disclosure would be tolerated, Andrew began with his hastily concocted tale.

Looking the picture of sincerity, he began, "Do you remember that box of evidence you removed from my office? Well, I began to wonder if there was anything else that Ecklie would have hidden in that location.

It took a few days to return to the file storage room unnoticed. That's where I found these…"

He extended the envelope he had been clutching, handing it over to the Sheriff.

Cautiously, the Sheriff's eyes flitted between the closed file and Andrew's eyes, searching for any evidence to confirm his gut feeling that this suspect may actually be telling the truth.

Flipping open the file, the Sheriff's outward demeanor remained unchanged.

Inside, he was practically dancing around the room.

_This evidence._

_Thank goodness, it looks to be a complete file._

_Damn that Ecklie! How much hurt he was willing to inflict upon Sara._

_And Grissom._

_Sara and Grissom._

He forced the knot in his stomach to recede, but kept his voice low as he queried,

"Who else knows about this?"

Again, there was a deliberate scrutiny of his suspect.

But Andrew had plenty of experiences in keeping his wholesome, Boy Scout image.

"I found the file, took it to my office to give it a quick look through to determine it did belong to Ecklie, and then was on my way to your office when those two morons in the lab accosted me!" he added, a bit too heatedly.

After a brief moment, the Sheriff suddenly jumped from this leaning position on the edge of his desk and barked, "That will be all….for now…I expect you to stay in the lab tonight, should I have need of any additional information."

Andrew was expert at reading between the lines. The Sheriff's edict was tantamount to a "Don't leave town" decree.

Still, he was glad to be out in the corridor again. Sauntering slowly back towards the lab, he waited until he had completed his trek back to his office, closing and locking the door, before giving in to the adrenaline-induced weakness in his knees that now caused him to slide unceremoniously down the wall to his carpeted sanctuary.

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Alone in his office, the Sheriff sat behind his desk and reviewed the file.

It seemed like it was all there.

_I have it, Sara._

_I promised you I would find it, Sara._

_You don't have to worry about Ecklie hurting you anymore, Sara._

_You can relax now, Sara._

_No more worries…my dearest Sara._

The Sheriff placed the file in his private safe. He wanted the pride of bringing it personally for Sara to review before destroying the last vestige of her longtime nightmare.

Sara.

He picked up his cell, hoping her surgery was completed and she would finally have the life she desired…even if it _was_ with Grissom.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After Sara had returned to the OR, Grissom had phoned Brass.

The two now sat in the waiting room, anticipating hearing about Sara's condition soon.

Brass put down the subpoena that had been delivered an hour before.

"I saw that guy earlier…_never expected_ that is what he wanted…I almost thought the way he was lurking around –" he stopped short, not sure if he wanted to plant _that_ thought into Gil's psyche.

He noticed that Grissom had not asked him to finish his sentence.

Glancing closer at his friend, Brass' heart felt heavy.

_He loves her…more than anyone or anything._

_He waited so long…and since he decided to make his move, it's all gone wrong._

_These two need a time out…from everyone…I hope he will scoop her up and run away with her._

_But…guess he can't run far._

_This damn subpoena…I just hope she's up to it._

_Having to relive it all…in her physical condition…_

Brass sat shaking his head to clear out the image of a withdrawn, defeated Sara.

Grissom sat unmoving, tuning out the world as he was accustomed to doing when he needed to concentrate on a case.

Brass had been scrutinizing the subpoena, which indicated that Sara needed to give a deposition concerning the events leading to the death of Sofia Curtis. Knowing how the system worked, Jim really this deposition possibly could result in an appearance before a coroner's inquest or Grand Jury investigation.

Gil had been mentally boring a hole through the OR doors, willing them to swing open with news that the damage had been minimal and that Sara was already on her way to recovery.

He wanted to hold her.

He wanted to whisk her away from the painful tubes and stitches.

He wanted them to recline on a faraway, secluded beach.

He wanted to make love to her.

Grissom tried to think "happy thoughts" about their future together, but each thought was stymied by a roadblock:

-the subpoena,

-Sara's probably-lengthy recuperating from surgery,

-the nightmare at the lab which currently had no one in charge,

-the mess he had made of their fledgling relationship because of his jealousy over her friendship with Warrick,

-the unanswered concerns Doc had voiced originally about Sara's emotional and physical state.

Feeling anxious, Gil sighed openly, causing Brass to cock his head to observe his friend's actions.

Not used to being the specimen under review, Grissom stood quickly to pace a bit near the open doorway.

"Gil…that's not helping Sara…sit down and relax…you two are going to have a lot of together time in the next few days…conserve your strength."

Despite himself, Grissom smiled.

He _would_ have alone time with Sara, and _soon_.

When she was settled and resting, Gil would request a No Visitors sign be placed for her safety and his peace of mind.

And as they would rest, they could be together in their Better Place.

There was so much to say…

Gil zoned out again, thinking how …sad…it was that there was no one but he and Brass waiting for Sara.

No mother or father.

No family.

That's when he smiled.

He spoke so quietly, Brass almost didn't hear him.

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with family."

Gil looked at Brass with a countenance that displayed the astonishment he felt.

Sliding into a seat opposite him, Grissom leaned forward into Brass's space a bit, grinning while he spoke.

"Anthony Brandt spoke those words, Brass. He understood the importance of defining ourselves in relation to our relationships.

Sara has never had a real family. Instead, she has adopted the graveyard crew – defining herself by their parameters.

She reached out, more than once, allowing me the opportunity to join her in a true, loving relationship –"

His voice cracked, causing him to bow his head slightly, retreating from his emotions which threatened to overcome him.

But Brass would not allow Gil to pull into himself again. Not after all he and Sara had been through in the past few days.

Leaning in, Brass punched Grissom lightly on the upper arm.

"And she _does_ love you, you know… go ahead, ask _anyone_ at the lab. We've been pulling for you two the last few years now…" he grinned, trying to lighten the moment.

Gil appreciated the effort, but was serious when he looked Brass right in the eye to state,

"I finally figured out what to do about _this_ now, Jim."

The concentrated stare he received from Grissom spoke volumes.

The two of them sat there grinning like Cheshire cats.

Just then the nurse came in looking for Gil, who was on his feet and following her before fully taking his leave of Brass.

Jim didn't seem to mind in the least, replaying Gil's last statement in his mind.

_Well, it's about time…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As promised, Gil was there when Sara woke up. She had a lot of post-operative pain, which was dulled by the morphine drip that was standard procedure in such cases.

He hovered over her lovingly as she slept.

_Family._

_It's what you've secretly desired, my darling._

_I know._

_It's what _I _have dreamed of for so long._

_Someone to love me._

_Only me._

_I can't believe I never saw the family Catherine always talked about._

"_People are building a family around you, whether you want them to or not, whether you give them permission to or not."_

_You, Sara, you have opened my eyes to the possibilities of having a family to love…and to love me._

_I love you, Sara._

_I want us to become a real family._

Gil stopped his musings.

Did he _really_ want Sara to become his family? _Officially?_

Would he ask her to marry him?

Would she say _yes?_

The thought had him giddy.

He pressed his lips to hers gently, selfishly willing her to awake.

The drugs proved more powerful than love on this occasion.

He rested his forehead on their entwined hands for a long while.

When he raised his head, Gil could not suppress the smile that threatened to make him laugh out loud.

_He finally knew what to do about _this.

And indeed, there was a _lot_ to do before he shared his revelations with his beloved.

Knowing Sara would be asleep for quite a while, Gil flipped open his cell phone.

Against hospital regulations, he hit the speed dial.

When Brass answered on the second ring, his voice was businesslike, yet hinted at his anxiety about Sara.

"She's fine, Jim. But I wondered if you could come over and stay with Sara for a while. There are a few important matters I need to attend to."


	47. Chapter 47

Thanks for your patience. Your reviews and continued support for this story, as always, are so appreciated. These two have been whispering in my ear nonstop, but I haven't been home long enough to update. This is a shorter chapter but I wanted to get it posted tonight. I am hoping to update on Sunday. You remain terrific! Hope this pleases…. - Kathy

To see a picture of the place Gil is discussing in this chapter, you can

1. log on to govegas(dot)about(dot)com

2. type in the search box "Mandalay bay beach"

3. in the search results, click on THE BEACH AT MANDALAY BAY HOTEL

If you follow these directions, you will see the exact setting Gil has chosen to carry out his plans.

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Gil was busier than he expected to be for most of the day.

There was the lengthy visit with his friend Weston, the jeweler. This visit was characterized by a back room tour of gems and jewels that were not generally presented to the average consumer.

No, these diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires were reserved for a select few – with a discriminating eye.

In discussing his situation with Brass in the hospital waiting room earlier in the day, the remaining uncertainty that had enveloped Grissom regarding his feelings for Sara – and, more importantly, what to do about those feelings – had simply dissipated.

He was more certain than ever that he wanted, no _needed_, Sara in his life.

He wanted Sara to be his wife.

Each time he mentally rehashed that idea, his boyish grin spread across his face causing passersby to glance quizzically over their shoulders as he moved passed them.

Having selected the diamond and emeralds that would by encased in a one-of-a-kind setting for the engagement ring, Weston promised to create a unique companion setting for Sara's wedding band.

Next stop, the Mandalay Bay Hotel.

In all the years he had worked Vegas, there had never been a crime scene in this tourist attraction.

He had heard about their on-site beach and thought how appropriate it would be for them to be joined together beachside.

Gil sighed.

He knew that Sara would require some physical therapy to recover from her recent injuries.

He grimaced as he realized that Sara would be called for the deposition arising from the subpoena. His anger built when he thought about Sofia, how she had conspired with Ecklie to hurt Sara.

His movement halted as he pictured Sara as a victim of their plotting if the Sheriff and his Elite Force had not arrived when they did.

Shaking off that feeling of dread and forcing himself to keep focused on his positive tasks, Gil walked through the lobby and proceeded towards the hallway marked for the beach.

When he felt the warmth of the Las Vegas midday sun on his face, he blinked – and froze in place.

His eyes blinked.

His breath hitched.

His mind was reeling.

_How is this possible?_

Unaware of the vacationers moving past him, Gil stood there in disbelief.

Before him was a rolling hillside covered in flora and fauna, the type of which he had only seen in one other spot in his travels.

Through the canopy of this thicket, he could see the sandy beach, the gently rolling waves, the crystal blue water.

_Our Better Place…_

For a moment, his mind disavowed the throngs of happy, playful tourists of all ages who were enjoying a dip in the immaculately maintained hotel pools.

Instead, he envisioned Sara on the beach, hair blowing in the gentle breeze…

…waiting for him.

Getting jostled by hotel guests with arms encumbered with beach towels and sand toys, Gil was brought back to reality.

He continued to stand there staring until that boyish grin returned.

_THIS is the place._

Gil noticed a sign for the pool hours: 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.

_With daylight usually lasting until around 9 p.m. , that would give us enough time to exchange our vows with just a small group of close friends…we would be husband and wife by sunset…_

Feeling empowered with that thought, Gil went in search of the hotel manager.

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Mr. Curtis slammed down the receiver.

He didn't like being hampered by the confines of a federal statute.

If he couldn't get a Grand Jury convened because there was not enough evidence for "probable cause", then he would get his lawyer to work some magic and get a Coroner's Inquest convened.

What did he care about the law?

He wanted someone to pay for what had happened to Sofia.

A knock on the door brought him out of his musings.

Calling brusquely for the party to enter, a nondescript young man in his mid-20's swiftly entered the study.

"Is it delivered?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Curtis."

"Fine…that tramp may have friends in high places, so I want you to do a little research on this Sidle person. What she's doing…WHO she's doing…you know the drill…"

"Sir, she's just recuperating from surgery, I don't think she'll –"

"THAT'S RIGHT! You DON'T think!" the older man bellowed, rising and clearing the desktop with one angry movement.

The young man's gaze followed the displaced items before returning fearfully to give his enraged employer the total attention he knew was expected of him.

Logan Curtis was before the shaking young man in two steps.

"My Sofia is dead….DEAD!…someone is going to pay…that Sidle bitch is still alive…she is responsible for my daughter's actions…she did something…blackmailed her, I don't know…my Sofia would never throw her career away for some tramp like that…"

He stood menacingly close to the young man as he grabbed his shirt collar with both hands.

"I am convinced the LVPD is covering up the real story. I saw that tape –"

He paused, not wishing to reveal anymore to his lackey.

"YOU are going to find out what this Sidle person was doing to my poor Sofia to make her take such desperate actions, _are we real clear on that_?" he fumed, the volume of his voice raising on each word uttered until he was practically spitting flames in the young man's face.

The poor man could only shake his head affirmatively before turning on his heels and practically racing out the door.

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Gil had finished his errands. He now found himself racing back to the hospital.

He wanted to see Sara.

He _needed _to see Sara.

He was practically giddy with the joy of a man in love.

He couldn't stop smiling.

His plan would surprise her, he knew she would love it all.

His arms ached to hold her.

His voice ached to profess his love.

His body ached to feel her close to him…making love to her…

His stride increased in length and pace.

He took the stairs so as not to waste time waiting for the elevator.

His goal was finally in sight.

His footsteps halted outside her door.

His face fell.

His thoughts screeched to a halt.

_What was he seeing?_

His face flushed with – was it anger? No…something more primitive.

He realized immediately what he felt surging through his core.

_Jealousy._

Standing just outside of Sara's door, hidden from view, he watched his love resting on her pillows gazing with a small smile at the person who was talking to her quietly…or was it intimately?

Sara's visitor was sitting close to her bed, her tired eyes trained on his features as if trying to understand what the young man was talking about.

_He's sitting in _my_ chair…talking to _my_ Sara…_

Gil's heart stopped as he watched the tall CSI reach out and take Sara's hand in his.

_I have to get in there…I can't stand by and watch this happening…_

Gil tried his best to force a breath into his tightening chest.

He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, trying to relax.

_I have to get control of myself…I don't want to upset her…_

Gil moved down the hallway, mentally retracing his steps of a few moments ago so as to appear in her doorway casually as if he didn't have a concern in the world.

_I have to get this anger under control…Sara needs all the support she can get right now…_

_She needs to know that everyone cares for her, how much everyone lov-_

He couldn't finish the thought.

I_ love her…and she loves _me_…_only_ me…_

Mentally bracing himself with that thought, Gil entered the room in a reserved fashion.

He walked to the side of the bed opposite "his" chair, leaned over, and kissed Sara gently on the lips, pausing long enough to maintain full contact before she broke off their kiss by smiling tiredly.

Gil looked up sending darts into the eyes of the man who still held Sara's hand firmly in his grasp.

"Warrick."


	48. Chapter 48

A/N Thanks for your patience. I intended to wrap up this story, but these two have a few more things to say before this is put to rest. Your reviews are especially encouraging, as well as the support from all those who are reading this story. I promise to update as soon as possible, hopefully before the weekend. You remain terrific! Hope this pleases! –Kathy

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While Gil had been busy, Brass had been watching Sara sleep off the effects of the anesthesia. Sara's system did not handle the medication well, and despite the valiant efforts of the anesthesiologist, she was usually listless and drowsy for a day or two after surgery.

While Sara rested, apparently comfortable, Brass received a call that required him at the scene.

He was hesitant to call Grissom, as he secretly hoped that Gil had "figured this out" and was making preparations for wedding bells to ring out soon.

Without much thought, Brass rang Warrick – knowing that he was close to her case and needed no briefing on how to handle Sara's condition.

Brass had leaned in to give Sara's forehead a fatherly kiss, then tucked her blankets around her gently so she wouldn't shiver as she had done when awake for a short time earlier in the afternoon.

As Warrick settled himself in the chair next to Sara's bed, Brass again paused in the doorway. He was a bit anxious about leaving her with anyone besides Grissom.

But he had also seen Warrick's determination to find Sara when she was missing, had seen his worry while he remained focused on processing the townhouse, had watched the gentleness he exhibited while collecting the remains of Sara's beloved butterflies – hoping to somehow memorialize the fallen heroes.

Swallowing a sigh, Brass regained Warrick's attention before he admonished him.

"Take care of her, 'Ric. And I _mean_ with your _life._"

Expecting a trite rebuttal, Brass stood somewhat shocked at the response he did receive.

Warrick just sighed and glanced at Sara before returning his gaze to the commanding figure in the doorway.

Making eye contact, he nodded his head softly before moving forward to take hold of Sara's hand, wincing at how cold her small appendage felt as it was dwarfed by his brawny grip.

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Later, Sara awoke to the same disoriented feeling. Her brown eyes were searching while she remained stock still. That's how her gaze landed on her hands.

Her line of sight moved slowly upwards until she locked eyes with Warrick.

At first, she seemed not to recognize him. Yet her first words conveyed her real confusion.

"Isn't Gil here?"

Now it was Warrick's turn to be disoriented.

He was sure he would never get used to hearing Sara call him Gil.

After the appropriate amount of reassurances, Sara seemed to regain her grasp on the reality of her situation and her current physical condition.

Desperate to move off her back which ached from her lengthy rest as well as the positioning in the operating room, Sara attempted to roll her lithe frame towards Warrick.

That's when his stomach fell at the poorly corralled scream that escaped from her lips.

Warrick was on his feet in an instant, worry pouring from his entire being. "SARA!"

By now, Sara had repositioned herself painfully into her earlier state. Her eyes were closed to harness the floodgates that threatened to fall.

Warrick was about to press the nurse's call button, but Sara pleaded with him to wait.

"Let them come and –"

"No, 'Ric…I'm fine…just moved wrong….please, give me a minute…"

"Sara –"

"Please?" she begged hoarsely, the pain easing only slightly.

Sara's fear was that the hospital staff would give her harsher medication that would keep her from being awake…from waiting up for Gil to return.

She was becoming more distracted with the post-operative pain. The usual distraction techniques, which she had developed while in foster care those many years ago, did not seem to be working.

Noticing her continued discomfort, Warrick tried to get her to reevaluate her objections to receiving proper medication to deal with the pain.

He spoke gently, his voice carrying a lilting quality that most lullabies would envy.

Sara found herself focusing on his voice, and to her surprise found the pain also abating as her body relaxed and the muscles in her thigh relaxed their pressure on the surgical site.

After a few minutes, Sara seemed a bit drowsy yet was able to carry her weight in a prolonged discussion with Warrick.

She had asked about the Sheriff, had Warrick seen him, and did he mention anything about finding evidence among Ecklie's possessions.

Seeing Warrick's face, Sara had her answer without him speaking.

She sighed unhappily.

" 'Ric, he visited me yesterday and …they haven't _found_ it!"

Warrick knew she was referring to the mock evidence that Ecklie had created to hurt Grissom by implying that he had been carrying on an illicit affair with Sara for several years.

"Sara, Ecklie's gone. He can't hurt you anymore," Warrick tried, but he could see he was failing to provide her any real piece of mind.

"It isn't me I am worried about," she had replied evenly, although Warrick could see the degree of her worry contained in those bottomless brown depths.

"Sara…" he began again, speaking softly and slowly to gain her attention.

"The Sheriff will find the evidence. He'll destroy the lies. You _will_ have the life you've always wanted."

_The dream of the life I have always wanted for you to have._

Continuing with chosen words and gentle mannerisms, Warrick took hold of Sara's hand.

He was offering her hope – _can this really be over?_

Sara looked at him, almost unaware of her surroundings, totally focused on Warrick's words – as if she was having difficulty understanding his optimism.

" 'Ric, please tell me …the truth…" Sara began.

Warrick released her hand and straightened a bit. _She's going to ask about Grissom…_

"Do you think, with everything that has happened, that somehow…" she was afraid to even think it.

"Sara?" Warrick leaned forward and reclaimed her hand.

"Do you think that Gil knows about Ecklie's file?"

Warrick almost laughed aloud.

_She's been kidnapped, beaten, shot, almost murdered…and she's more worried about _him _than herself. _

_He doesn't deserve that kind of love…_Warrick thought as his memory raced through a screening of the million of times Grissom had pushed Sara painfully away, about his possessiveness that caused her to take risks that night at the restaurant, about Grissom and…Sofia.

" 'Ric?" Sara started again softly before he realized he had not provided her with a reassuring answer.

"No, Sara. There is no way Grissom could have found out about …everything."

There was a small pause as Sara moved her hand out of Warrick's grasp, pulling her blanket up a bit tighter under her chin.

With her hands clutching the folded rim of the thin hospital-issued coverlet, she seemed tired and …frail.

She avoided his gaze.

"He'll hate me, you know."

Before Warrick could protest, she continued rambling – a state caused by the degree of her pain and her refusal of proper pain management, exacerbated by her own deeply imbedded belief that she was essentially unlovable.

"He'll think I did it to pretend to be close to him.

He'll think I was in with Ecklie on the whole thing.

He'll … hate –" Sara broke off, slamming her eyelids shut as if to refuse another thought to escape from her now confused state.

_She loves him…but she's still hurting…worrying about being abandoned…oh, Sara…_

Warrick's mind was frantically searching for the right words to ease her worry.

He reached forward again to reclaim her hand. He spoke softly as she stared at him as if trying to understand what he was saying.

"Sara – he loves you. Grissom loves you. He's not going anywhere."

A small smile played on his lips as he continued.

"Pretty soon, he's going to come charging through that doorway, pissed off as _hell_ that Brass didn't call him to tell him you were more fully awake."

"Hell, he's going to be even _more_ pissed off that _I_ have been able to enjoy your company while he's been running around doing whatever it was that pulled him away from here."

At this, Warrick leaned closer to Sara's bed.

"And you better believe it was life-and-death important…that guy's been glued to this place since they brought you here."

Warrick's whispered conspiratorially, "Never doubt it Sara. He's yours for as long as you'll have him."

And with that, Sara's eyes were averted from the truth she sought in Warrick's eyes to the sight of the love of her life walking – no _charging_ just as Warrick had predicted – through the doorway, not stopping until he reached her side.

In one fell swoop, he planted a soft yet lingering kiss on her lips. His gesture was repaid by the small smile Sara sent his way. She hoped Gil wouldn't see the fatigue commandeering her movements.

When Grissom all but glared while greeting Warrick, Sara received a blink of a wink from her friend as if to say, "What did I tell you?"

Grissom was also party to this exchange, which fed his desire to have another round with Warrick. However, he realized that he needed to deal with his jealousy over the men who were close to Sara. In their own way, they loved her, after all.

But _she_ loved _him_ alone.

Sensing Grissom's desire to spend some time alone with the object of his affection, he rose quickly taking Sara's attention away from their mutually intense gaze.

Leaning over to kiss her forehead quickly, he ignored Grissom's impatient shuffling to gaze into Sara's eyes.

Before moving away, he whispered near her ear, "For as long as you'll have him."

Sara smiled gratefully at Warrick who glanced over at Grissom's slight scowl before bidding them both goodbye.

"_For as long as you'll have him??" What the hell does that mean? Who was he talking about? _Grissom pondered, a green-eyed monster dancing on his soul, leaving him to wonder if his skill in lip reading wasn't more a curse than a blessing sometimes.

Before he lost himself in debating the issue, Sara's soft tones washed over him.

Startled, he gazed lovingly in her direction as she spoke.

However, Gil was distracted from her message as his eyes wandered over her face.

_She looks paler than before. Her eyelids are droopy, yet she seems unable to settle._

_The position of her blanket indicates she still has the shivers… post-op spikes in temperature are not that uncommon. Wonder if I should bring in the doctor??_

His musings were cut short as Sara called his name a bit harsher than she intended.

"GIL!"

He quickly reached for her hand, leaning forward to ensure himself that she was alright.

Sara looked deep into his azure gaze.

"Well? Have you?...Gil?"

He noticed she was starting to get agitated. What had she asked him?

Grissom decided to confess to his inattention and find out what Sara needed from him.

"Sara –" he noticed her flinch. _What is up with her? Something is worrying her._

Gil sighed and then he leaned over and placed another lingering kiss on her lips, wondering if they didn't feel a bit too warm for his liking.

"Sara, I was …not paying attention. Sorry. Please, sweetheart, please ask me again. I promise you have my undivided attention now."

Sara eased visibly. She offered him a small smile. "Nevermind, Gil. I'm kind of tired anyway."

"_Sara_," Gil intoned as he exhaled harshly. He wished she would just ask him again.

She needed to know something from him.

_He_ needed to know _she_ still needed _him_.

He swung brusquely away from her, making a motion to move away from her bed, merely intending to remove his jacket and place it on the back of his chair before returning to their conversation.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!"

Her emphatic cry surprised them both

- he, because he couldn't believe that she remained worried he would ever leave her – _she was his life, didn't she understand that?_

- she, because she couldn't believe that she had expressed her deepest fear aloud, exposing herself to him here, without the safeguards of their Better Place – _she would never be able to survive being abandoned by him, didn't he understand that?_

Wordlessly, Gil perched himself on the edge of her bed, reclining his upper body on her pillow.

Gingerly, he reached under her shoulders and gently repositioned her until she rested in the crook of his arm.

They sat there like that for some time, hoping what needed to be said was conveyed by their close encounter.

After a long while, Grissom breathed in deeply before resting his cheek on the top of Sara's head.

"I like not only to be loved, but to be told I am loved." (Eliot)

Gil squeezed her gently in his grasp.

"I love you, Sara Sidle. I will love you forever."

Sara stirred softly in his arms and sleepily whispered, "I love you, Gil."

He wanted to spill the beans.

He was going to take the dive and just confess his plans to marry her, if she would have him.

He intended to do it right now, but glancing down he noticed Sara had closed her eyes and was taking mostly shallow breaths.

Gil was still unhappy about the warmth he felt exuding from her blanketed form.

He decided to hold off on proposing to her until she was feeling a bit better.

A girl should be proposed to correctly.

After all, he only planned on doing this once in his life…with the love of his life.

A small sigh was emitted from his frowning face.

He hated waiting.

_Is this what Sara had felt like all those years he pushed her away?_

He reached up and discreetly felt her forehead. Slightly warmer than before.

Perhaps he would ring for the nurse after a while.

Sara had fallen back into a light sleep while in the safety of his arms.

She was startled awake however by the gentle rapping of her hospital room door.

Grissom scowled as once again his peaceful enjoyment of Sara's undivided attention was being trespassed upon by – the Sheriff himself.

"Am I interrupting something?" the Sheriff asked pointedly at Grissom, while never taking his eyes off the face that recently haunted his dreams.

Before he could respond, Sara reached out her hand shakily towards her visitor and hoarsely spoke, "Of course not….please…come in…"

The Sheriff flashed her a broad smile and adjusted his attaché case in his grip.

Feeling a bit like a third wheel, Grissom was about to protest any lengthy visiting plans the Sheriff had. Gil felt Sara needed rest, not _more_ visiting by the _Sheriff_.

Again, he swallowed his preferred utterance in an attempt to keep his jealousy under control.

So he said nothing – although, if looks alone could kill…

Which made Grissom even more surprised when Sara leaned back to stare directly into his eyes as she spoke. Her lips were almost touching his, and Grissom had to reign in every ounce of strength to not pull her to him tightly and kiss her into tomorrow.

"Gil…would you…could you please…for me…"

_No, Sara…please don't ask me to leave…please, honey…what is going on here?...why won't you let me stay…couldn't _I _be the one to help you?...please, Sara…please say you need _me_…please don't ask me to leave…_

"I …need…I want to talk to the Sheriff alone."

He mustered up a small smile and, ignoring the Sheriff who sat in "his" chair a bit too smugly for Gil's taste, moved her into a more upright position before placing another lingering kiss on her lips.

Assuring himself that Sara was as comfortable as could be, Grissom straightened himself visibly before parading out the door, closing it only slightly before disappearing from view.

As Gil raced towards the nurse's station, his head was swimming while recalling the events of the last hour.

_Well THIS certainly didn't turn out the way I expected it to! I swear, the next second I get Sara alone – I'm going to come right out and tell her it's time to make our dream come true!_


	49. Chapter 49

A/N: I want to dedicate this final chapter with belated birthday greetings to Meliara45678 ! I actually was surprised when these two found a great spot to end this segment of the trilogy, but my few happy tears at the end proved that they were right as usual. I intend to post the final story in the trilogy beginning sometime near the end of May. My sincere thanks to all those who continued to support this story. Special thanks to my loyal reviewers, your support kept this story alive. A quick reminder that any situations that are not resolved here will be addressed in the final story. You remain, as always, terrific! I hope you will continue to read the next story about these fantastic characters. Hope this final chapter pleases. –Kathy

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The Sheriff never took his eyes off Sara as he stood and moved to close the door securely.

He knew Grissom had left it ajar purposely to deny him any privacy while talking to Sara.

Moving back towards the bed, the Sheriff could not refrain from smiling at this rare opportunity to sit and talk with Sara alone.

Especially when he knew she would be so excited at the news he brought.

"Sara," he began slowly, lifting his attaché case to the rumpled covers at the end of her bed.

He noticed that as soon as Grissom had exited the room, Sara had attempted to kick off the extra covers he had placed over her to halt her shivering.

While Sara did seem a bit more comfortable, he couldn't help but notice the rosy areas on Sara's cheeks, making him deduce she was running a fairly high fever.

Sara tried to lean up on her elbow, but the pain from the repaired wound kept her from moving her leg over so she dropped down unceremoniously on her pillow and moved the head of the hospital bed forward by fingering the control.

"Sara, I think I found it!"

He turned his face and moved closer to hers. She was staring at him, open-mouthed. Then, her pale but perfect lips morphed into a smug smirk that betrayed her happiness.

The Sheriff had to force himself to remain in his seat.

All he could think of was kissing that smirk right into tomorrow.

Instead, he retrieved the paperwork from his attaché case and handed it to her.

She held them, a bit weary from the excitement this short visit provided. When the top edge of the last document dipped precariously over the side of the bed, the Sheriff instinctively reached for it.

Their hands met. It meant everything to him. She had no reaction.

The Sheriff spoke hoarsely, "Here, let me hold them for you."

But Sara had already released them into his capable hands. Hers were beginning to shake with a slight tremor as her fever continued to rise.

Her visitor leaned closer, asking softly, "Sara? Are you okay?"

Her smile betrayed her physical state. "Thank you, Rory."

Her grimace detracted from the joy in his heart, hearing her say his name like that.

Sara closed her eyes, but when they reopened she seemed more determined to speak her mind.

"This means everything to me –"

His heart was swelling with pride in being able to bring her the good news.

However, the Sheriff's joy was short-lived as the door to the hospital room was forced open with a bang.

Several people moved quickly on hospital-model rubber soled shoes, with Grissom playing doorman.

He smugly had informed the nurse about his worry over Sara's escalating temperature.

The nurse had paged Sara's doctor, and after speaking with Grissom decided a post-op checkup was in order.

Gil had been filled with glee at deposing the Sheriff from "his" chair.

Now, the sight before him was confusing.

Sara was leaning towards the Sheriff, almost holding his hand.

The Sheriff was leaning towards Sara, papers strewn all over the bedding between them, with _that look_ in his eyes.

Grissom knew that look. His own eyes had held it for many years.

The _I want to kiss her so badly_ look.

Sara's eyes held a panicked look Grissom could not understand.

Her gaze locked on the Sheriff's actions as he hurriedly scooped up the obvious point of his visit.

Stuffing them into his attaché, he hid Ecklie's forged emails from view and snapped the locks with a flourish before regaining his seat and absently taking Sara's hand in his.

Before either room occupant could speak, the older doctor was already at Sara's side speaking firmly,

"I'm sorry but I am going to have to ask you to leave now so I can examine this patient."

His tone carried the message that he would brook no argument.

The Sheriff's insides were panicking.

He wanted more time.

Looking towards Sara, hoping she would plead his case, he realized how she had gone downhill even since he had arrived. Her hands were flushed and warm.

The Sheriff realized his time with Sara was, indeed, over.

Rising to leave, he gave her hand one more squeeze before moving his face closer to hers.

His eyes roved hers for a split second before he choked back his desire to kiss her forehead in goodbye.

Instead, he smiled at her and his heart quivered at the smile she returned.

"I'll take care of it. No worries now, okay? Just get better and come back soon."

Sara was feeling worse by the minute, so all she could muster was a glossy-eyed stare and a small nod.

Straightening his shoulders, he ignored the doctor and nurse now engaged with their dials and gauges, and without looking back strode out of the room without acknowledging a scowling Grissom at the door.

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The doctor had confirmed Gil's suspicions of a post-op infection.

A flurry of activity found the nurses scurrying to Sara's side with an additional bag of cooled fluids, saw the doctor don his gloves to more closely examine her surgical site – and left Grissom banished to the hallway until their efforts were completed.

He leaned against the wall opposite her doorway, as if sheer willpower would force it open.

_What if he lost her? He needed to be with her._

His goal had been to clear the unwelcome visitor from his chair.

Not to get himself thrown out as well.

Gil sighed. _This was not exactly how I expected things to happen today._

By now, he had expected to be engaged to the love of his life.

He had devised the perfect plan.

She was supposed to be speechless and fling herself into his arms.

He was supposed to profess his undying love and profound need to claim her as his own.

"The reward of a thing well done is to have done it," he sighed, quoting Emerson.

Right now, he'd settle for the reward of seeing that door open.

Gil's body physically ached to hold her.

He was sure he could smell her scent envelope him in a hug.

He raked his hand roughly through his hair.

Pacing replaced standing as his worry replaced longing.

_What if he lost her? He needed her in his life._

While the door flung open, his isolation did not end.

The nurse looked compassionately at him but shook her head as she moved to retrieve more supplies.

He blocked her exit.

"How…how is she?"

Seeing his pain framed in two blue orbs, she halted her movements and smiled encouragingly.

"You made a good call. We are doing all we can to reverse that fever, but if this next batch of medication doesn't help we may need to bring her to ICU for some more invasive measures."

_NO!_

His heart stopped.

_What if he lost her? He wouldn't be able to go on._

"Please," he begged. "I need to be with her."

The young nurse placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

"As soon as the doctor is finished with his exam, I'll see what I can do."

With a small squeeze of encouragement, she was once again on her way towards the nurses' station.

He couldn't breathe.

Her scent still hovered around him and he could almost feel her arms enveloping him in comfort.

His knees were failing him as he recalled the times he had denied his growing love for her.

He braced himself to keep from sliding downwards along the walls of this bleak corridor.

He thought about the years he wasted, saying he couldn't do this.

And now, it might be too late.

He recalled earlier today as he finalized arrangements for their wedding on the shores of the beach at the Mandalay Bay hotel.

"_How much time will you require to make the preparations?" he inquired of the manager, who seemed pleased to assist Gil in arranging this one-of-a-kind sunset nuptial._

"_Our entire waitstaff is at your beck-and-call, Mr. Grissom," he had smiled while responding._

"_When do you anticipate the happy day will be?"_

_Gil was almost giddy in his response._

"_With her very first pain-free breath," he grinned, knowing that he would wait, albeit impatiently, until Sara was out of the hospital and well enough to fully enjoy their first night as man and wife._

He was jarred from his reverie as her hospital door flung open and his adrenaline level skyrocket as the doctor moved towards him.

"Her fever is decreased, but she is still not out of the woods yet," he began as Grissom clenched his jaw, focusing on the _yet_ of his statement.

"Her temperature spiked high enough to put her in danger of seizure," he continued as Grissom placed a hand to his temple, hoping to ward off a stress-induced migraine, focusing on the _seizure_ of his statement.

"However, she is resting more comfortably. Her incision site looks a bit inflamed, but the new antibiotic should deal with that," he spoke encouragingly as Grissom heaved a deep sigh, focusing on the _comfortably_ of his statement.

"Please…I need to see her," he spoke softly, his eyes pleading.

"She may not recognize you now, Gil," the older doctor stated pointedly as he took a step towards him.

"Sara's been heavily medicated, and with her temperature still a bit high some delirium is to be expected," he spoke softly.

"May I see her?" Grissom forced out hoarsely.

"In a moment. Right now, I'd like you to come with me so I can check you over and give you something for that headache," the doctor spoke calmly already leading Gil towards the nurses' station.

Numbly, Grissom walked along with the doctor, listening to the quiet interrogation concerning his symptoms as he concentrated on calming his burgeoning head pain.

If he had been concentrating on his surroundings, he would have noticed the elevator doors opening.

Instead, he continued down the hallway while the passenger waltzed out into the corridor.

Seeking his bearings, the figure found the room number he looked for and moved towards it quietly.

Andrew placed his hand on Sara's hospital door, knocking quietly. Without waiting for a response, he entered.

The site before him made him quiver.

Sara's sleeping form was shivering softly.

Following the doctor's exit, she had thrashed around a bit in a quasi-nightmare, displacing much of her covers.

Her long brown lashes were wet with unshed tears, her pale countenance prettily enhanced with the deep pink flush of fever.

Her lips, still drying from the ice chips that had been held there, held a moist sheen that Andrew found – intoxicating.

He sat in the recently vacated chair and just watched the rise and fall of her chest.

He observed her quiet battle with dreamland demons, and he sucked in his breath at the sight of her kicking herself free from her covers.

Sara's long legs lay displayed at eyelevel. Andrew took this as a silent invitation.

He stood over her, eyeing her longingly, recalling what little he had read of Ecklie's fabricated emails.

"Sara," he breathed as his hands stretched out over her legs, eyeing the displaced edges of her hospital gown, his actions awakening his desire.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing?" bellowed Grissom's loud voice as he moved enraged through the doorway, approaching Andrew threateningly.

Andrew, with practiced cool, stared unblinking at Grissom.

"I came in and Sara was thrashing around. I…I just was replacing her covers…" which he started to do as he spoke.

Grissom eyed him warily while forcing the edge of her blankets from his hands, rudely displacing him from Sara's bedside.

The older doctor had followed him in, taking in the scene before him, gazing suspiciously at Andrew.

Ignoring the intruder totally, Grissom stared pointedly at the older doctor.

"I think we need to implement a NO VISITORS policy until she regains some ground," Gil practically hissed.

"I could agree with that assessment," the doctor replied, continuing to glare at Andrew.

Being able to play poker expertly, Andrew knew when to hold and when to fold 'em.

Obviously, he had lost this hand.

But inwardly he rallied that the game was far from over.

Smiling, he moved into Grissom's personal space and glared at him while speaking evenly, "Please tell Sara I was here."

Before Gil could react, Andrew was already out the door, his saunter unconcerned although a bit faster paced than usual.

Back on the elevator, Andrew let out a ragged breath.

_That had been close. I am going to have to be more careful._

And with that, the doors closed taking Andrew back into his thoughts of how he would finally get Sara alone. His obsessed grin would have made the staunchest heart shutter.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The excitement over, Gil plunked down into "his" chair and took Sara's hand.

The doctor assured him the medication would help her sleep, restating that he seemed pleased with the direction of her temperature, and admonishing Gil to take a nap and allow the injected medication to work in alleviating his headache.

With the NO VISITORS sign posted, Gil felt he could breathe a bit easier.

After double checking that Sara was tucked in, calm, and comfortable, Gil rested his head on their clasped hands and drifted off to sleep.

Within a heartbeat, he was there.

Upon realizing where he was, Gil's feet had several missteps before propelling him towards the beach.

He spotted her sitting near the shore, knees pulled up close to her chest, staring blankly out to sea.

She turned as he called her, and was on her feet and running towards him.

He spun her around as their bodies met, claiming her lips as his, running his large hands hungrily over her form.

Sara was molding herself to him as if she wanted to climb inside him.

Their lips never parted as their need for each other caused them to become oblivious to everything but the beating of their happy hearts.

They collapsed to the ground, still joined at the lips as if releasing themselves they would cease to exist.

Finally, it was not lack of oxygen but the pull of Cheshire cat grins that released the vacuum that held them liplocked.

"I love you, Sara. Marry me. I don't want to wait anymore. I can't live without you. Marry me. As soon as we wake. Marry me, Sara. Today. Please, marry me, I love you," Gil blurted out.

It wasn't the romantic message he had practiced.

It wasn't the most memorable approach to telling her what he desired most.

It wasn't what he expected her answer to be.

She cried.

Sara pulled away from him, looking – shocked.

Tears flowed from her staring eyes.

She wrapped her arms around herself, searching his face.

_Can he really mean this? It's all happening so fast…but I love him so…can he _really_ mean this?_

Can_ he love me forever?_

Gil was not very good at reading situations like these. He began to feel like a lovestruck teenager begging for a prom date. His own insecurities were fighting for control.

_Why is she staring? Did I mess this up so badly? No…please…don't say this would be a mistake…_

He reached for her hands, pausing before he spoke.

"If you have love, you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have." (Barrie)

"Sara, without your love I am nothing. NOTHING!" His voice broke and he closed his eyes to keep the moisture from spilling over.

The next instant, he felt her hand caressing his cheek in an attempt to ward off the moisture.

When he reopened his eyes, she was standing there in front of him, eyes glistening, with that special smile reserved just for him.

"Sara," he breathed as she continued to softly move her thumb over his cheek.

"With you in my life, Sara, I am complete. Please," he grabbed both her hands suddenly, startling her.

Had they not been so focused on each other, they would have notice the contingent of butterflies that had now lighted to create a colorful ring around them.

The seabirds had perched themselves on the deck, and the last cloud had disappeared from the sky.

The wind had calmed, stilling the soft music from the thicket.

"Please," he repeated as she gasped while watching him bend on one knee into the warm support of the wind-drifted sand on their perfect seascape.

"Sara, my dearest love…Sara, please…I can't live without you anymore…please, Sara…marry me?"

The world around them held its breath.

She wanted him to be sure.

She loved him so, and if he backed away again she knew her heart would never recover.

Yet, here he was kneeling before her, looking at her with such…love…

The wait seemed interminable.

One butterfly moved his wing impatiently. She didn't notice.

All eyes were on her.

But she only had eyes for him.

As the waves rolled gently to shore behind them, she squeezed his hand slightly before adorning her face with the most loving of smiles.

"Yes, Gil…yes, I'll marry you…"

He was on his feet and tugging her into an embrace that knocked the wind out of her.

He laughed and she squealed in delight as he swung her around in circles, happily, while the butterflies took flight and buzzed around them under the canopy of seabirds cawing and soaring high above them. The wind picked up causing small sand tornadoes to explode around the beach while the lilting tones resumed from the thicket.

Love made life good.

And while their mortal bodies rested near each other in healing sleep, Gil and Sara – focused on creating their new Perfect Place together, until death should they part - explored the depth of their forever love in this, their Better Place.


End file.
